diff options
Diffstat (limited to '41489-h/41489-h.html')
| -rw-r--r-- | 41489-h/41489-h.html | 16874 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 16874 deletions
diff --git a/41489-h/41489-h.html b/41489-h/41489-h.html deleted file mode 100644 index de57b19..0000000 --- a/41489-h/41489-h.html +++ /dev/null @@ -1,16874 +0,0 @@ -<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?> -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC '-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN' 'http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd'> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<head> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8" /> -<meta name="generator" content="Docutils 0.8.1: http://docutils.sourceforge.net/" /> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg common docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles common to HTML and EPUB. Put styles -that are specific to HTML and EPUB into their relative stylesheets. - -:Author: Marcello Perathoner (webmaster@gutenberg.org) -:Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - -This stylesheet is based on: - - :Author: David Goodger (goodger@python.org) - :Copyright: This stylesheet has been placed in the public domain. - - Default cascading style sheet for the HTML output of Docutils. - -*/ - -/* ADE 1.7.2 chokes on !important and throws all css out. */ - -/* FONTS */ - -.italics { font-style: italic } -.no-italics { font-style: normal } - -.bold { font-weight: bold } -.no-bold { font-weight: normal } - -.small-caps { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.gesperrt { } /* Epub needs italics */ -.antiqua { font-style: italic } /* what else can we do ? */ -.monospaced { font-family: monospace } - -.smaller { font-size: smaller } -.larger { font-size: larger } - -.xx-small { font-size: xx-small } -.x-small { font-size: x-small } -.small { font-size: small } -.medium { font-size: medium } -.large { font-size: large } -.x-large { font-size: x-large } -.xx-large { font-size: xx-large } - -.text-transform-uppercase { text-transform: uppercase } -.text-transform-lowercase { text-transform: lowercase } -.text-transform-none { text-transform: none } - -.red { color: red } -.green { color: green } -.blue { color: blue } -.yellow { color: yellow } -.white { color: white } -.gray { color: gray } -.black { color: black } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.left { text-align: left } -.justify { text-align: justify } -.center { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.centerleft { text-align: center; text-indent: 0 } -.right { text-align: right; text-indent: 0 } - -/* LINE HEIGHT */ - -body { line-height: 1.5 } -p { margin: 0; - text-indent: 2em } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -.title, .subtitle { page-break-after: avoid } - -.container, .title, .subtitle, #pg-header - { page-break-inside: avoid } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { text-align: justify } - -p.pfirst, p.noindent { - text-indent: 0 -} - -.boxed { border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -.topic, .note { margin: 5% 0; border: 1px solid black; padding: 1em } -div.section { clear: both } - -div.line-block { margin: 1.5em 0 } /* same leading as p */ -div.line-block.inner { margin: 0 0 0 10% } -div.line { margin-left: 20%; text-indent: -20%; } -.line-block.noindent div.line { margin-left: 0; text-indent: 0; } - -hr.docutils { margin: 1.5em 40%; border: none; border-bottom: 1px solid black; } -div.transition { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.vfill, .vspace { border: 0px solid white } - -.title { margin: 1.5em 0 } -.title.with-subtitle { margin-bottom: 0 } -.subtitle { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -/* header font style */ -/* http://dev.w3.org/csswg/css3-fonts/#propdef-font-size */ - -h1.title { font-size: 200%; } /* for book title only */ -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-1 { font-size: 150%; margin-top: 4.5em; margin-bottom: 2em } -h3.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { font-size: 120%; margin-top: 2.25em; margin-bottom: 1.25em } -h4.title, p.subtitle.level-3 { font-size: 100%; margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; font-weight: bold; } -h5.title, p.subtitle.level-4 { font-size: 89%; margin-top: 1.87em; margin-bottom: 1.69em; font-style: italic; } -h6.title, p.subtitle.level-5 { font-size: 60%; margin-top: 3.5em; margin-bottom: 2.5em } - -/* title page */ - -h1.title, p.subtitle.level-1, -h2.title, p.subtitle.level-2 { text-align: center } - -#pg-header, -h1.document-title { margin: 10% 0 5% 0 } -p.document-subtitle { margin: 0 0 5% 0 } - -/* PG header and footer */ -#pg-machine-header { } -#pg-produced-by { } - -li.toc-entry { list-style-type: none } -ul.open li, ol.open li { margin-bottom: 1.5em } - -.attribution { margin-top: 1.5em } - -.example-rendered { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted red; padding: 1em; background-color: #ffd } -.literal-block.example-source { - margin: 1em 5%; border: 1px dotted blue; padding: 1em; background-color: #eef } - -/* DROPCAPS */ - -/* BLOCKQUOTES */ - -blockquote { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -blockquote.epigraph { } - -blockquote.highlights { } - -div.local-contents { margin: 1.5em 10% } - -div.abstract { margin: 3em 10% } -div.image { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.caption { margin: 1.5em 0 } -div.legend { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -.hidden { display: none } - -.invisible { visibility: hidden; color: white } /* white: mozilla print bug */ - -a.toc-backref { - text-decoration: none ; - color: black } - -dl.docutils dd { - margin-bottom: 0.5em } - -div.figure { margin-top: 3em; margin-bottom: 3em } - -img { max-width: 100% } - -div.footer, div.header { - clear: both; - font-size: smaller } - -div.sidebar { - margin: 0 0 0.5em 1em ; - border: medium outset ; - padding: 1em ; - background-color: #ffffee ; - width: 40% ; - float: right ; - clear: right } - -div.sidebar p.rubric { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-size: medium } - -ol.simple, ul.simple { margin: 1.5em 0 } - -ol.toc-list, ul.toc-list { padding-left: 0 } -ol ol.toc-list, ul ul.toc-list { padding-left: 5% } - -ol.arabic { - list-style: decimal } - -ol.loweralpha { - list-style: lower-alpha } - -ol.upperalpha { - list-style: upper-alpha } - -ol.lowerroman { - list-style: lower-roman } - -ol.upperroman { - list-style: upper-roman } - -p.credits { - font-style: italic ; - font-size: smaller } - -p.label { - white-space: nowrap } - -p.rubric { - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger ; - color: maroon ; - text-align: center } - -p.sidebar-title { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold ; - font-size: larger } - -p.sidebar-subtitle { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -p.topic-title, p.admonition-title { - font-weight: bold } - -pre.address { - margin-bottom: 0 ; - margin-top: 0 ; - font: inherit } - -.literal-block, .doctest-block { - margin-left: 2em ; - margin-right: 2em; } - -span.classifier { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-style: oblique } - -span.classifier-delimiter { - font-family: sans-serif ; - font-weight: bold } - -span.interpreted { - font-family: sans-serif } - -span.option { - white-space: nowrap } - -span.pre { - white-space: pre } - -span.problematic { - color: red } - -span.section-subtitle { - /* font-size relative to parent (h1..h6 element) */ - font-size: 100% } - -table { margin-top: 1.5em; margin-bottom: 1.5em; border-spacing: 0 } -table.align-left, table.align-right { margin-top: 0 } - -table.table { border-collapse: collapse; } - -table.table.hrules-table thead { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 0 } -table.table.hrules-table tbody { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 2px 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows tr { border: 1px solid black; border-width: 0 0 1px } -table.table.hrules-rows tr.last { border-width: 0 } -table.table.hrules-rows td, -table.table.hrules-rows th { padding: 1ex 1em; vertical-align: middle } - -table.table tr { border-width: 0 } -table.table td, -table.table th { padding: 0.5ex 1em } -table.table tr.first td { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last td { padding-bottom: 1ex } -table.table tr.first th { padding-top: 1ex } -table.table tr.last th { padding-bottom: 1ex } - - -table.citation { - border-left: solid 1px gray; - margin-left: 1px } - -table.docinfo { - margin: 3em 4em } - -table.docutils { } - -div.footnote-group { margin: 1em 0 } -table.footnote td.label { width: 2em; text-align: right; padding-left: 0 } - -table.docutils td, table.docutils th, -table.docinfo td, table.docinfo th { - padding: 0 0.5em; - vertical-align: top } - -table.docutils th.field-name, table.docinfo th.docinfo-name { - font-weight: bold ; - text-align: left ; - white-space: nowrap ; - padding-left: 0 } - -/* used to remove borders from tables and images */ -.borderless, table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - border: 0 } - -table.borderless td, table.borderless th { - /* Override padding for "table.docutils td" with "!important". - The right padding separates the table cells. */ - padding: 0 0.5em 0 0 } /* FIXME: was !important */ - -h1 tt.docutils, h2 tt.docutils, h3 tt.docutils, -h4 tt.docutils, h5 tt.docutils, h6 tt.docutils { - font-size: 100% } - -ul.auto-toc { - list-style-type: none } -</style> -<style type="text/css"> -/* -Project Gutenberg HTML docutils stylesheet. - -This stylesheet contains styles specific to HTML. -*/ - -/* FONTS */ - -/* em { font-style: normal } -strong { font-weight: normal } */ - -.small-caps { font-variant: small-caps } -.gesperrt { letter-spacing: 0.1em } - -/* ALIGN */ - -.align-left { clear: left; - float: left; - margin-right: 1em } - -.align-right { clear: right; - float: right; - margin-left: 1em } - -.align-center { margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto } - -div.shrinkwrap { display: table; } - -/* SECTIONS */ - -body { margin: 5% 10% 5% 10% } - -/* compact list items containing just one p */ -li p.pfirst { margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 0 } - -.first { margin-top: 0 !important; - text-indent: 0 !important } -.last { margin-bottom: 0 !important } - -span.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.1em 0 0; line-height: 1 } -img.dropcap { float: left; margin: 0 0.5em 0 0; max-width: 25% } -span.dropspan { font-variant: small-caps } - -.no-page-break { page-break-before: avoid !important } - -/* PAGINATION */ - -@media screen { - .coverpage, .frontispiece, .titlepage, .verso, .dedication, .plainpage - { margin: 10% 0; } - - div.clearpage, div.cleardoublepage - { margin: 10% 0; border: none; border-top: 1px solid gray; } - - .vfill { margin: 5% 10% } -} - -@media print { - div.clearpage { page-break-before: always; padding-top: 10% } - div.cleardoublepage { page-break-before: right; padding-top: 10% } - - .vfill { margin-top: 20% } - h2.title { margin-top: 20% } -} - -</style> -<title>ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES</title> -<meta name="PG.Rights" content="Public Domain" /> -<meta name="PG.Title" content="One of Clive's Heroes" /> -<meta name="PG.Producer" content="Al Haines" /> -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<meta name="DC.Creator" content="Herbert Strang" /> -<meta name="DC.Created" content="1906" /> -<meta name="PG.Id" content="41489" /> -<meta name="PG.Released" content="2012-11-25" /> -<meta name="DC.Language" content="en" /> -<meta name="DC.Title" content="One of Clive's Heroes" /> - -<link href="http://purl.org/dc/terms/" rel="schema.DCTERMS" /> -<link href="http://id.loc.gov/vocabulary/relators" rel="schema.MARCREL" /> -<meta content="One of Clive's Heroes" name="DCTERMS.title" /> -<meta content="clive.rst" name="DCTERMS.source" /> -<meta content="en" scheme="DCTERMS.RFC4646" name="DCTERMS.language" /> -<meta content="2012-11-27T06:30:21.838696+00:00" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.modified" /> -<meta content="Project Gutenberg" name="DCTERMS.publisher" /> -<meta content="Public Domain in the USA." name="DCTERMS.rights" /> -<link href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41489" rel="DCTERMS.isFormatOf" /> -<meta content="Herbert Strang" name="DCTERMS.creator" /> -<meta content="2012-11-25" scheme="DCTERMS.W3CDTF" name="DCTERMS.created" /> -<meta content="width=device-width" name="viewport" /> -<meta content="EpubMaker 0.3.20a5 by Marcello Perathoner <webmaster@gutenberg.org>" name="generator" /> -<style type="text/css"> -.pageno { position: absolute; right: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.pageno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.lineno { position: absolute; left: 95%; font: medium sans-serif; text-indent: 0 } -.lineno:after { color: gray; content: '[' attr(title) ']' } -.toc-pageref { float: right } -pre { font-family: monospace; font-size: 0.9em; white-space: pre-wrap } -</style> -</head> -<body> -<div class="document" id="one-of-clive-s-heroes"> -<h1 class="center document-title level-1 pfirst title"><span class="x-large">ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES</span></h1> - -<!-- this is the default PG-RST stylesheet --> -<!-- figure and image styles for non-image formats --> -<!-- default transition --> -<!-- default attribution --> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="clearpage"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="align-None container language-en pgheader" id="pg-header" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the </span><a class="reference internal" href="#project-gutenberg-license">Project Gutenberg License</a><span> -included with this eBook or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<div class="align-None container" id="pg-machine-header"> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span>Title: One of Clive's Heroes -<br /> -<br />Author: Herbert Strang -<br /> -<br />Release Date: November 25, 2012 [EBook #41489] -<br /> -<br />Language: English -<br /> -<br />Character set encoding: UTF-8</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-start-line"><span>*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst" id="pg-produced-by"><span>Produced by Al Haines.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span></span></p> -</div> -<div class="align-None container coverpage"> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 51%" id="figure-37"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="Cover" src="images/img-cover.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">Cover</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container frontispiece"> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 63%" id="figure-38"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="THE SUBAHDAR FALLS INTO THE TRAP." src="images/img-front.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">THE SUBAHDAR FALLS INTO THE TRAP.</span></div> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container titlepage"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="x-large">ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="large">A Story of the Fight for India</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">By -<br />HERBERT STRANG</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">HUMPHREY MILFORD -<br />OXFORD UNIVERSITY PRESS -<br />LONDON, EDINBURGH, GLASGOW -<br />TORONTO, MELBOURNE, CAPE TOWN, BOMBAY</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -</div> -<div class="align-None container verso"> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">Copyright, 1906, by the Bobbs Merrill Company, in -<br />the United States of America</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="small">REPRINTED 1938 IN GREAT BRITAIN BY R. CLAY AND SONS, LTD., -<br />BUNGAY, SUFFOLK.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">Preface</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>I have not attempted in this story to give a full account -of the career of Lord Clive. That has been done by my -old friend Mr. Henty in </span><em class="italics">With Clive in India</em><span>. It has -always seemed to me that a single book provides too -narrow a canvas for the display of a life so full and varied -as Clive's; while a story is bound to suffer, structurally -and in detail, from the compression of the events of a -life-time into so restricted a space. I have therefore chosen -two outstanding events in the history of India and of -Clive--the capture of Gheria and the Battle of Plassey; and have -made them the pivot of a personal story of adventure. -The whole action of the present work is comprised in the -years from 1754 to 1757.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But while this book is thus rather a romance with a -background of history than an historical biography with an -admixture of fiction, the reader may be assured that the -information its pages contain is accurate. I have drawn -freely upon the standard authorities: Orme's </span><em class="italics">History</em><span>, -Ives' </span><em class="italics">Voyage</em><span>, Grose's </span><em class="italics">Voyage</em><span>, the lives of Clive by -Malcolm and by Colonel Malleson, and many other works, -in particular the monumental volumes, by Mr. S. C. Hill -recently published, </span><em class="italics">Bengal in 1756-7</em><span>, which give a very -full, careful and clear account of that notable year, with -a mass of most useful and interesting documents. The -maps of Bengal, Fort William, and Plassey in the present -volume are taken from Mr. Hill's work, by kind permission -of the Secretary of State for India. I have to thank also -Mr. T. P. Marshall, of Newport, for some valuable notes on -the history and topography of Market Drayton. For -Indian words and names the Hunterian spelling has been -adopted in the main.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For several years I myself lived within a stone's throw of -the scene of the tragedy of the Black Hole; and though at -that time I had no intention of writing a story for boys, I -hope that the impressions of Indian life, character, and -scenery then gained have helped to create an atmosphere -and to give reality to my picture. History is more than a -mere record of events; I shall be satisfied if the reader -gets from these pages an idea, however imperfect, of the -conditions of life in which our empire-builders laboured in -India a hundred and fifty years ago.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>HERBERT STRANG.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">Contents</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-first">CHAPTER THE FIRST</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the Court Leet of Market Drayton entertains -Colonel Robert Clive; and our hero makes an -acquaintance</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-second">CHAPTER THE SECOND</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which our hero overhears a conversation; and, -meeting with the expected, is none the less -surprised and offended</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-third">CHAPTER THE THIRD</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Mr. Marmaduke Diggle talks of the Golden -East; and our hero interrupts an interview, and -dreams dreams</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-fourth">CHAPTER THE FOURTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which blows are exchanged; and our hero, setting -forth upon his travels, scents an adventure</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-fifth">CHAPTER THE FIFTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Job Grinsell explains; and three visitors -come by night to the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-sixth">CHAPTER THE SIXTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the reader becomes acquainted with William -Bulger and other sailor men; and our hero as a -Squire of dames acquits himself with credit</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-seventh">CHAPTER THE SEVENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Colonel Clive suffers a defeat hitherto -unrecorded; and our hero finds food for reflection</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-eighth">CHAPTER THE EIGHTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which several weeks are supposed to elapse; and -our hero is discovered in the doldrums</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-ninth">CHAPTER THE NINTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> makes a running fight; and -Mr. Toley makes a suggestion</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-tenth">CHAPTER THE TENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which our hero arrives in the Golden East; and -Mr. Diggle presents him to a native prince</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-eleventh">CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the Babu tells the story of King Vikramâditya; -and the discerning reader may find more -than appears on the surface</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twelfth">CHAPTER THE TWELFTH</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In which our hero is offered freedom at the price of -honour; and Mr. Diggle finds that he has no -monopoly of quotations</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-thirteenth">CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Mr. Diggle illustrates his argument; and -there are strange doings in Gheria Harbour</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-fourteenth">CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which seven bold men light a big bonfire; and the -Pirate finds our hero a bad bargain</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-fifteenth">CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which our hero weathers a storm; and prepares for -squalls</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-sixteenth">CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which a mutiny is quelled in a minute; and our Babu -proves himself a man of war</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-seventeenth">CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which our hero finds himself among friends; and -Colonel Clive prepares to astonish Angria</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-eighteenth">CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Angria is astonished; and our hero begins to -pay off old scores</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-nineteenth">CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the scene changes; the dramatis personæ -remaining the same</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twentieth">CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which there are recognitions and explanations; and -our hero meets one Coja Solomon, of Cossimbazar</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-first">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Coja Solomon finds dishonesty the worse -policy; and a journey down the Hugli little to his liking</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-second">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which is given a full, true, and particular account -Of the Battle of the Carts</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-third">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which there are many moving events; and our hero -finds himself a cadet of John Company</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-fourth">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the danger of judging by appearance is -notably exemplified</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-fifth">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which our hero embarks on a hazardous mission; -and Monsieur Sinfray's khansaman makes a confession</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-sixth">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which presence of mind is shown to be next best to -absence of body</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-seventh">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which an officer of the Nawab disappears; and -Bulger reappears</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-eighth">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Captain Barker has cause to rue the day when -he met Mr. Diggle; and our hero continues to -wipe off old scores</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-twenty-ninth">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which our hero does not win the Battle of Plassey; -but, where all do well, gains as much glory as -the rest</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-thirtieth">CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which Coja Solomon reappears; and gives our hero -valuable information</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-thirty-first">CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which friends meet, and part; and our hero hints -a proposal</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><a class="medium reference internal" href="#chapter-the-thirty-second">CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SECOND</a></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 1em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In which the curtain falls, to the sound of bells; -and our hero comes to his own</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-first"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE FIRST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the Court Leet of Market Drayton -entertains Colonel Robert Clive; and -our hero makes an acquaintance.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One fine autumn evening, in the year 1754, a country -cart jogged eastwards into Market Drayton at the heels -of a thickset shaggy-fetlocked and broken-winded cob. -The low tilt, worn and ill-fitting, swayed widely with the -motion, scarcely avoiding the hats of the two men who -sat side by side on the front seat, and who, to any one -watching their approach, would have appeared as dark -figures in a tottering archway, against a background of -crimson sky.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the vehicle jolted through Shropshire Street, the -creakings of its unsteady wheels mingled with a deep -humming, as of innumerable bees, proceeding from the -heart of the town. Turning the corner by the butchers' -bulks into the High Street, the cart came to an abrupt -stop. In front, from the corn-market, a large wooden -structure in the centre of the street, to the </span><em class="italics">Talbot Inn</em><span>, -stretched a dense mass of people, partly townsfolk, as -might be discerned by their dress, partly country folk -who, having come in from outlying villages to market, -had presumably been kept in the town by their curiosity -or the fair weather.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We'n better goo round about, measter," said the -driver to the passenger at his side. "Summat's afoot -down yander."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a wise man, to be sure. Something's afoot, -as you truly say. And being troubled from my youth up -with an inquiring nose, I'll e'en step forward and smell -out the occasion. Do you bide here, my Jehu, till I come -back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I will then, measter, but my name binna Jehu. -'Tis plain Tummas."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You don't say so! Now I come to think of it, it -suits you better than Jehu, for the Son of Nimshi drove -furiously. Well, Tummas, I will not keep you long; this -troublesome nose of mine, I dare say, will soon be satisfied."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time he had slipped down from his seat, and was -walking towards the throng. Now that he was upon his -feet, he showed himself to be more than common tall, -spare, and loose-jointed. His face was lean and swarthy, -his eyes black and restless; his well-cut lips even now -wore the same smile as when he mischievously misnamed -his driver. Though he wore the usual dress of the -Englishman of his day--frock, knee-breeches, and -buckle-shoes, none of them in their first youth--there was a -something outlandish about him, in the bright yellow of -his neckcloth and the red feather stuck at a jaunty angle -into the riband of his hat; and Tummas, as he looked -curiously after his strange passenger, shook his head, and -bit the straw in his mouth, and muttered:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, it binna on'y the nose, 't binna on'y the nose, -with his Jehus an' such."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the man strode rapidly along, reached the -fringe of the crowd, and appeared to make his way through -its mass without difficulty, perhaps by reason of his -commanding height, possibly by the aforesaid quaintness of -his aspect, and the smile which forbade any one to regard -him as an aggressor. He went steadily on until he came -opposite to the </span><em class="italics">Talbot Inn</em><span>. At that moment a stillness -fell upon the crowd; every voice was hushed; every -head was craned towards the open windows of the inn's -assembly-room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[Sidenote: Reminiscences]</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gazing with the rest, the stranger saw a long table -glittering under the soft radiance of many candles and -surrounded by a numerous company--fat and thin, old and -young, red-faced and pale, gentle and simple. At the end -farthest from the street one figure stood erect--a short, -round, rubicund little man, wearing a gown of rusty -black, one thumb stuck into his vest, and a rosy benignity -in the glance with which he scanned the table. He threw -back his head, cleared his tight throat sonorously, and -began, in tones perhaps best described as treacly, to -address the seated company, with an intention also -towards the larger audience without.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, neebours all, we be trim and cosy in our -insides, and 'tis time fur me to say summat. I be proud, -that I be, as it falls to me, bein' bailiff o' this town, to ax -ya all to drink the good health of our honoured townsman -an' guest. I ha' lived hereabout, boy an' man, fur a -matter o' fifty year, an' if so be I lived fifty more I couldna -be a prouder man than I bin this night. Boy an' man, says -I. Ay, I knowed our guest when he were no more'n table -high. Well I mind him, that I do, comin' by this very -street to school; ay, an' he minds me too, I warrant. I -see him now, I do, skippin' along street fresh an' nimble-like, -his eyne chock full o' mischief, lookin' round fur to -see some poor soul to play a prank on. It do feel strange-like -to have him a-sittin' by my elbow to-day. Many's the -tale I could tell o' his doin' an' our sufferin'. Why, I mind -a poor lump of a prentice as I wunst had, a loon as never -could raise a keek: poor soul, he bin underground this -many year. Well, as I were sayin', this prentice o' mine -were allers bein' baited by the boys o' the grammar-school. -I done my best for him, spoke them boys fair an' soft, but -bless ya, 'twas no good; they baited him worse'n ever. -So one day I used my stick to um. Next mornin', I was -down in my bake-hus, makin' my batch ready fur oven, -when, oothout a word o' warnin', up comes my two feet -behind, down I goes head fust into my flour barrel, and -them young----hem! the clergy be present--them -youngsters dancin' round me like forty mad merryandrews -at a fair."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A roar of laughter greeted the anecdote.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, neebours," resumed the bailiff, "we can laugh -now, you an' me, but theer's many on ya could tell o your -own mishappenin's if ya had a mind to 't. As fur me, I -bided my time. One day I cotched the leader o' them boys -nigh corn-market, an' I laid him across the badgerin' stone, -and walloped him nineteen-twenty--hee! hee! D'ya mind -that, General?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned to the guest at his right hand, who sat with -but the glimmer of a smile, crumbling one of Bailiff Malkin's -rolls on the table-cloth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But theer," continued the speaker, "that be nigh -twenty year ago, an' the shape o' my strap binna theer -now, I warrant. Three skins ha' growed since then--hee! hee! -Who'd ha' thought, neebours, as that young -limb as plagued our very lives out 'ud ha' bin here to-day, -a general, an' a great man, an' a credit to his town an' -country? Us all thought as he'd bring his poor feyther's -grey hairs in sorrow to the grave. An' when I heerd as -he'd bin shipped off to the Injies--well, thinks I, that bin -the last we'll hear o' Bob Clive. But bless ya! all eggs -binna addled. General Clive here--'twere the Injun sun -what hatched he, an' binna he, I ax ya, a rare young -fightin' cock? Ay, and a good breed too. A hunnerd year -ago theer was a Bob Clive as med all our grandfeythers -quake in mortal fear, a terrible man o' war was he. They -wanted to put 'n into po'try an' the church sarvice.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>From Wem and from Wyche</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>An' from Clive o' the Styche,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Good Lord, deliver us.</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That's what they thought o' the Bob Clive o' long ago. -Well, this Bob Clive now a-sittin' at my elbow be just as -desp'rate a fighter, an' thankful let us all be, neebours, -as he does his fightin' wi' the black-faced Injuns an' the -black-hearted French, an' not the peaceful bide-at-homes -o' Market Drayton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The little bailiff paused to moisten his lips. From his -audience arose feeling murmurs of approval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ya known what General Clive ha' done," he resumed. -"'Twas all read out o' prent by the crier in corn-market. -An' the grand folks in Lun'on ha' give him a gowd sword, -an' he bin hob-a-nob wi' King Jarge hisself. An' us folks -o' Market Drayton take it proud, we do, as he be come to -see us afore he goes back to his duty. Theer's a' example -fur you boys. Theer be limbs o' mischief in Market -Drayton yet. Ay, I see tha, 'Lijah Notcutt, a-hangin' on -to winder theer. I know who wringed the neck o' Widder -Peplow's turkey. An' I see tha too, 'Zekiel Podmore; I -know who broke the handle o' town pump. If I cotch ya -at your tricks I'll leather ya fust an' clap ya in the stocks -afterwards, sure as my name be Randle Malkin. But as I -wan sayin', if ya foller th' example o' General Clive, an' -turn yer young sperits into the lawful way--why, mebbe -there be gowd swords an' mints o' money somewheers fur -ya too. Well now, I bin talkin' long enough, an' to tell ya -the truth I be dry as a whistle, so I'll ax ya all to lift yer -glasses, neebours, an' drink the good health o' General -Clive. So theer!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[Sidenote: "General Clive!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the worthy bailiff concluded his speech, the company -primed their glasses, rose, and drank the toast with -enthusiasm. Lusty cheers broke from the drier throats -outside; caps were waved, rattles whirled, kettles beaten, -with a vigour that could not have been exceeded if the -general loyalty had been stirred by the presence of King -George himself. Only one man in the crowd held his -peace. The stranger remained opposite to the window, -silent, motionless, looking now into the room, now round -upon the throng, with the same smile of whimsical -amusement. Only once did his manner change; the smile faded, -his lips met in a straight line, and he made a slight -rearward movement, seeming at the same moment to lose -something of his height. It was when the guest of the -evening stood up to reply: a young man, looking -somewhat older than his twenty-nine years, his powdered hair -crowning a strong face, with keen, deep-set eyes, full lips -and masterful chin. He wore a belaced purple coat; a -crimson sash crossed his embroidered vest; a diamond -flashed upon his finger. Letting his eyes range slowly -over the flushed faces of the diners, he waited until the -bailiff had waved down the untiring applauders without; -then, in a clear voice, began:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bailiff Malkin, my old friends----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his speech was broken in upon by a sudden commotion -in the street. Loud cries of a different tenor arose -at various points; the boys who had been hanging upon -the window-ledge dropped to the ground; the crowd -surged this way and that, and above the mingled clamour -sounded a wild and fearful squeal that drew many of the -company to their feet and several in alarm to the window. -Among these the bailiff, red now with anger, shook his -fist at the people and demanded the meaning of the -disturbance. A small boy, his eyes round with excitement, -piped up:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An't please yer worship, 'tis a wild Injun come from -nowheer an' doin' all manner o' wickedness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A wild Injun! Cotch him! Ring the 'larum bell! Put -him in the stocks!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the bailiff's commands passed unheeded. The people -were thronging up the street, elbowing each other, treading -on each other's toes, yelling, booing, forgetful of all -save the strange coincidence that, on this evening of all -others, the banquet in honour of Clive, the Indian hero, -had been interrupted by the sudden appearance of a live -Indian in their very midst.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A curious change had come over the demeanour of the -stranger who hitherto had been so silent, so detached in -manner, so unmoved. He was now to be seen energetically -forcing his way towards the outskirts of the -crowd, heaving, hurling, his long arms sweeping obstacles -aside. His eyes flashed fire upon the yokels scurrying -before him, a vitriolic stream of abuse scorched their faces -as he bore them down. At length he stopped suddenly, -caught a hulking farmer by the shoulder, and with a -violent twist and jerk flung him headlong among his -fellows. Released from the man's grasp, a small negro -boy, his eyes starting, his breast heaving with terror, -sprang to the side of his deliverer, who soothingly patted -his woolly head, and turned at bay upon the crowd, now -again pressing near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Back, you boobies!" he shouted. "'Tis my boy! If -a man of you follows me, I'll break his head for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and, clasping the black boy's hand close in -his, strode away towards the waiting cart. The crowd -stood in hesitation, daunted by the tall stranger's fierce -mien. But one came out from among them, a slim boy of -some fifteen years, who had followed at the heels of the -stranger and had indeed assisted his progress. The rest, -disappointed of their Indian hunt, were now moving back -towards the inn; but the boy hastened on. Hearing his -quick footsteps the man swung round with a snarl.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope the boy isn't hurt," said the lad quietly. "Can -I do anything for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The stranger looked keenly at him; then, recognizing by -his mien and voice that this at least was no booby, he -smiled; the truculence of his manner vanished, and he -said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your question is pat, my excellent friend, and I thank -you for your good will. As you perceive, my withers are -not wrung." He waved his right hand airily, and the boy -noticed that it was covered from wrist to knuckles with -what appeared to be a fingerless glove of black velvet. -"The boy has taken no harm. 'Hic niger est,' as Horace -somewhere hath it; and black spells Indian to your too -hasty friends yonder. Scipio is his praenomen, bestowed -on him by me to match the cognomen his already by -nature--Africanus, to wit. You take me, kind sir? But I -detain you; your ears doubtless itch for the eloquence of -our condescending friend yonder; without more ado then, -good night!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[Sidenote: A Gloved Hand]</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And turning on his heel, waving his gloved hand in -salutation, the stranger went his way. The lad watched -him wonderingly. For all his shabbiness he appeared a -gentleman. His speech was clean cut, his accent pure; -yet in his tone, as in his dress, there was something -unusual, a touch of the theatrical, strange to that old sleepy -town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He hoisted the negro into the cart, then mounted to his -place beside the driver, and the vehicle rumbled away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Retracing his steps, the boy once more joined the crowd, -and wormed his way through its now silent ranks until he -came within sight of the assembly-room. But if he had -wished to hear Clive's speech of thanks, he was too late. -As he arrived, applause greeted the hero's final words, and -he resumed his seat. To the speeches that followed no -heed was paid by the populace; words from the vicar and -the local attorney had no novelty for them. But they -waited, gossiping among themselves, until the festivity -was over and the party broke up. More shouts arose as -the great man appeared at the inn door. Horses were -there in waiting; a hundred hands were ready to hold the -stirrup for Clive; but he mounted unassisted and rode off -in company with Sir Philip Chetwode, a neighbouring -squire, whose guest he was. When the principal figure -had gone, the throng rapidly melted away, and soon the -street had resumed its normal quiet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boy was among the last to quit the scene. Walking -slowly down the road, he overtook a bent old man in the -smock of a farm labourer, trudging along alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hey, measter Desmond," said the old man, "I feels -for tha, that I do. I seed yer brother theer, eatin' an' -drinkin' along wi' the noble general, an' thinks I, 'tis hard -on them as ha' to look on, wi' mouths a-waterin' fur the -vittles an' drink. But theer, I'd be afeard to set lips to -some o' them kickshawses as goes down into the nattlens -o' high folk; an', all said an' done, a man canna be more'n -full, even so it bin wi' nowt but turmuts an' Cheshire -cheese. Well, sir, 'tis fine to be a nelder son, that's true, -an' dunna ya take on about it. You bin on'y a lad, after -all, pardon my bold way o' speakin', an' mebbe when you -come to man's estate, why, there'll be a knife an' fork fur -you too, though I doubt we'll never see General Clive in -these parts no moore. Here be my turnin'; good night to -ya, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-night, Dickon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[Sidenote: To Cheswardine]</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Desmond Burke passed on alone, out of the silent -town, into the now darkening road that led to his home -towards Cheswardine.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-second"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE SECOND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero overhears a conversation; -and, meeting with the expected, is none -the less surprised and offended.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond's pace became slower when, having crossed the -valley, he began the long ascent that led past the site of -Tyrley Castle. But when he again reached a stretch of -level road he stepped out more briskly, for the darkness of -the autumn night was moment by moment contracting the -horizon, and he had still several miles to go on the unlighted -road. Even as the thought of his dark walk crossed his -mind he caught sight of the one light that served as a -never-failing beacon to night travellers along that highway. It -came from the windows of a wayside inn, a common place -of call for farmers wending to or from Drayton market, and -one whose curious sign Desmond had many times studied -with a small boy's interest. The inn was named the -</span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>: its sign a crude painting of a table and -four seated figures--a king, a parson, a soldier, and a -farmer. Beneath the group, in a rough scrawl, were the -words--</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Rule all: Pray all:</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Fight all: Pay all.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As Desmond drew nearer to the inn, there came to him -along the silent road the sound of singing. This was -somewhat unusual at such an hour, for folk went early to -bed, and the inn was too far from the town to have attracted -waifs and strays from the crowd. What was still more -unusual, the tones were not the rough, forced, vagrant -tones of tipsy farmers; it was a single voice, light, musical, -and true. Desmond's curiosity was nicked, and he hastened -his step, guessing from the clearness of the sound that -the windows were open and the singer in full view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The singing ceased abruptly just as he reached the inn. -But the windows stood indeed wide open, and from the -safe darkness of the road he could see clearly, by the light -of four candles on the high mantelshelf, the whole interior -of the inn parlour. It held four persons. One lay back -in a chair near the fire, his legs outstretched, his chin on -his breast, his open lips shaking as he snored. It was -Tummas Biles the tranter, who had driven a tall stranger -from Chester to the present spot, and whose indignation -at being miscalled Jehu had only been appeased by a quart -of strong ale. On the other side of the fireplace, curled -up on a settle, and also asleep, lay the black boy Scipio -Africanus. Desmond noted these two figures in passing; -his gaze fastened upon the remaining two, who sat at a -corner of the table, a tankard in front of each.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the two was Job Grinsell, landlord of the inn, -a man with a red nose, loose mouth, and shifty eyes--not -a pleasant fellow to look at, and regarded vaguely as a -bad character. He had once been head gamekeeper to -Sir Willoughby Stokes, the squire, whose service he had -left suddenly and in manifest disgrace. His companion -was the stranger, the negro boy's master, the man whose -odd appearance and manner of talk had already set -Desmond's curiosity abuzzing. It was clear that he must be -the singer, for Job Grinsell had a voice like a saw, and -Tummas Biles knew no music save the squeak of his -cart-wheels. It surprised Desmond to find the stranger already -on the most friendly, to all appearance indeed confidential, -terms with the landlord.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hale, did you say?" he heard Grinsell ask. "Ay, -hale as you an' me, an' like to last another twenty year, -rot him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the gout takes him, you said--nodosa podagra, as -my friend Ovid would say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, but I've knowed a man live forty year win the -gout. And he dunna believe in doctor's dosin'; he goes -to Buxton to drink the weeters when he bin madded wi' -the pain, an' comes back sound fur six month."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Restored to his dear neighbours and friends--caris -propinquis----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hang me, but I wish you'd speak plain English an' -not pepper yer talk win outlandish jabber."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patience, Job; why, man, you belie your name. Come, -you must humour an old friend; that's what comes of -education, you see; my head is stuffed with odds and ends -that annoy my friends, while you can't read, nor write, -nor cipher beyond keeping your score. Lucky Job!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond turned away. The two men's conversation -was none of his business; and he suspected from the -stranger's manner that he had been drinking freely. He -had stepped barely a dozen paces when he heard the voice -again break into song. He halted and wheeled about; -the tune was catching, and now he distinguished some of -the words--</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Says Billy Morris, Masulipatam,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>To Governor Pitt: "D'ye know who I am.</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>D'ye know who I am, I AM, I AM?</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Sir William Norris, Masulipatam."</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -<div class="line"><span>Says Governor Pitt, Fort George Madras;</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>"I know what you are----"</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Again the song broke off; the singer addressed a -question to Grinsell. Desmond waited a moment; he felt an -odd eagerness to know what Governor Pitt was; but -hearing now only the drone of talking, he once more turned -his face homewards. His curiosity was livelier than ever -as to the identity of this newcomer, who addressed the -landlord as he might his own familiar friend. And what -had the stranger to do with Sir Willoughby Stokes? For -it was Sir Willoughby that suffered from the gout; he -it was that went every autumn and spring to Buxton; -he was away at this present time, but would shortly -return to receive his Michaelmas rents. The stranger had -not the air of a husbandman; but there was a vacant farm -on the estate; perhaps he had come to offer himself as -a tenant. And why did he wear that half-glove upon -his right hand? Finger-stalls, wrist-straps, even mittens -were common enough, useful, and necessary at times; but -the stranger's glove was not a mitten, and it had no fellow -for the left hand. Perhaps, thought Desmond, it was a -freak of the wearer's, like his red feather and his vivid -neckcloth. Desmond, as he walked on, found himself -hoping that the visitor at the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span> would remain -for a day or two.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After passing through the sleeping hamlet of Woods-eaves, -he struck into a road on his left hand. Twenty -minutes' steady plodding uphill brought him in sight of -his home, a large, ancient, rambling grange house lying -back from the road. It was now nearly ten o'clock, an -hour when the household was usually abed; but the door -of Wilcote Grange stood open, and a guarded candle in -the hall threw a faint yellow light upon the path. The -gravel crunched under Desmond's boots, and, as if -summoned by the sound, a tall figure crossed the hall and -stood in the entrance. At the sight Desmond's mouth -set hard; his hands clenched, his breath came more -quickly as he went forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where have you been, sirrah?" were the angry words -that greeted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Into the town, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had perforce to halt, the doorway being barred by -the man's broad form.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Into the town! You defy me, do you? Did I not bid -you remain at home and make up the stock-book?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did that before I left."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did, did you? I lay my life 'tis ill done. What -did you in the town at this time o' night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I went to see General Clive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed! You! Hang me, what's Clive to you? Was -you invited to the regale? You was one of that stinking -crowd, I suppose, that bawled in the street. You go and -herd with knaves and yokels, do you? and bring shame -upon me, and set the countryside a-chattering of Richard -Burke and his idle young oaf of a brother! By gad, sir, -I'll whip you for this; I'll give you something to remember -General Clive by!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He caught up a riding-whip that stood in the angle of -the doorway, and took Desmond by the shoulder. The -boy did not flinch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whip me if you must," he said quietly, "but don't -you think we'd better go outside?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The elder, with an imprecation, thrust Desmond into the -open, hauled him some distance down the path, and then -beat him heavily about the shoulders. He stood a foot -higher, his arm was strong, his grip firm as a vice; -resistance would have been vain; but Desmond knew better -than to resist. He bent to the cruel blows without a wince -or a murmur. Only, his face was very pale when, the -bully's arm being tired and his breath spent, he was flung -away and permitted to stagger to the house. He crawled -painfully up the wainscoted staircase and into the dark -corridor leading to his bedroom. Halfway down this he -paused, felt with his hand along the wall, and discovering -by this means that a door was ajar, stood listening.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Desmond?" said a low voice within.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, mother," he replied, commanding his voice, and -quietly entering. "I hoped you were asleep."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I could not sleep until you came in, dear. I heard -Dick's voice. What is the matter? Your hand is -trembling, Desmond."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, mother, as usual."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A mother's ears are quick; and Mrs. Burke detected the -quiver that Desmond tried to still. She tightened her -clasp on his hot hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did he strike you, dear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was nothing, mother. I am used to that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My poor boy! But what angered him? Why do you -offend your brother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Offend him!" exclaimed the boy passionately, but still -in a low tone. "Everything I do offends him. I went to -see General Clive; I wished to; that is enough for Dick. -Mother, I am sick of it all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Never mind, dear. A little patience. Dick doesn't -understand you. You should humour him, Desmond."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Haven't I tried, mother? Haven't I? But what is -the use? He treats me worse than any carter on the farm. -I drudge for him, and he bullies me, miscalls me before the -men, thrashes me--oh, mother! I can't endure it any -longer. Let me go away, anywhere; anything would be -better than this!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was quivering with pain and indignation; only -with difficulty did he keep back the tears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, Desmond!" said his mother. "Dick will hear -you. You are tired out, dear boy; go to bed; things will -look brighter in the morning. Only have patience. -Good-night, my son."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond kissed his mother and went to his room. But -it was long before he slept. His bruised body found no -comfort; his head throbbed; his soul was filled with -resentment and the passionate longing for release. His life had -not been very happy. He barely remembered his father--a -big, keen-eyed, loud-voiced old man--who died when his -younger son was four years old. Richard Burke had run -away from his Irish home to sea. He served on Admiral -Rooke's flagship at the battle of La Hogue, and, rising -in the navy to the rank of warrant-officer, bought a ship -with the savings of twenty years and fitted it out for -unauthorized trade with the East Indies. His daring, -skill, and success attracted the attention of the officers of -the Company. He was invited to enter the Company's -service. As captain of an Indiaman he sailed backwards -and forwards for ten years; then at the age of fifty retired -with a considerable fortune and married the daughter of -a Shropshire farmer. The death of his wife's relatives -led him to settle on the farm their family had tenanted -for generations, and it was at Wilcote Grange that his -three children were born.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fifteen years separated the elder son from the younger; -between them came a daughter, who married early and left -the neighbourhood. Four years after Desmond's birth the -old man died, leaving the boy to the guardianship of his -brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There lay the seed of trouble. No brothers could have -been more unlike than the two sons of Captain Burke. -Richard was made on a large and powerful scale; he was -hard-working, methodical, grasping, wholly unimaginative, -and in temper violent and domineering. Slighter and less -robust, though not less healthy, Desmond was a boy of -vivid imagination, high-strung, high-spirited, his feelings -easily moved, his pride easily wounded. His brother was -too dull and stolid to understand him, taking for deliberate -malice what was but boyish mischief, and regarding him -as sullen when he was only dreamily thoughtful.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As a young boy Desmond kept as much as possible out -of his brother's way. But as he grew older he came more -directly under Richard's control, with the result that they -were now in a constant state of feud. Their mother, a -woman of sweet temper but weak will, favoured her -younger son in secret; she learnt by experience that open -intervention on his behalf did more harm than good.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had two habits which especially moved his -brother to anger. He was fond of roaming the country -alone for hours together; he was fond of reading. To -Richard each was a waste of time. He never opened a -book, save a manual of husbandry, or a ready reckoner; -he could conceive of no reason for walking, unless it were -the business of the farm. Nothing irritated him more -than to see Desmond stretched at length with his nose -in Mr. Defoe's </span><em class="italics">Robinson Crusoe</em><span>, or a volume of Hakluyt's -</span><em class="italics">Voyages</em><span>, or perhaps Mr. Oldys's </span><em class="italics">Life of Sir Walter Raleigh</em><span>. -And as he himself never dreamed by day or by night, there -was no chance of his divining the fact that Desmond, on -those long solitary walks of his, was engaged chiefly in -dreaming, not idly, for in his dreams he was always the -centre of activity, greedy for doing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>These day-dreams constituted almost the sole joy of -Desmond's life. When he was quite a little fellow he would -sprawl on the bank near Tyrley Castle and weave -romances about the Norman barons whose home it had -been--romances in which he bore a strenuous part. He -knew every interesting spot in the neighbourhood: Salisbury -Hill, where the Yorkist leader pitched his camp before -the battle of Blore Heath; Audley Brow, where Audley the -Lancastrian lay watching his foe; above all Styche Hall, -whence a former Clive had ridden forth to battle against -the king, and where his namesake, the present Robert -Clive, had been born. He imagined himself each of those -bold warriors in turn, and saw himself, now a knight in -mail, now a gay cavalier of Rupert's, now a bewigged -Georgian gentleman in frock and pantaloons, but always -with sword in hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No name sang a merrier tune in Desmond's imagination -than the name of Robert Clive. Three years before, when -he was imbibing Latin, Greek, and Hebrew under -Mr. Burslem at the grammar school on the hill, the amazing -news came one day that Bob Clive, the wild boy who had -terrorized the tradespeople, plagued his master, led the -school in tremendous fights with the town boys, and -suffered more birchings than any scholar of his time--Bob -Clive, the scapegrace who had been packed off to India as -a last resource, had turned out, as his father said, "not -such a booby after all,"--had indeed proved himself to be -a military genius. How Desmond thrilled when the old -schoolmaster read out the glorious news of Clive's defence -of Arcot with a handful of men against an overwhelming -host! How he glowed when the schoolroom rang with -the cheers of the boys, and when, a half-holiday being -granted, he rushed forth with the rest to do battle in the -churchyard with the town boys, and helped to lick them -thoroughly in honour of Clive!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that moment there was for Desmond but one -man in the world, and that man was Robert Clive. In -the twinkling of an eye he became the devoutest of -hero-worshippers. He coaxed Mr. Burslem to let him occupy -Clive's old desk, and with his fists maintained the -privilege against all comers. The initials "R.C." roughly cut -in the oak never lost their fascination for him. He -walked out day after day to Styche Hall, two miles -away, and pleased himself with the thought that his -feet trod the very spots once trodden by Bob Clive. -Not an inch of the route from Hall to school--the -meadow-path into Longslow, the lane from Longslow to -Shropshire Street, Little Street, Church Street, the -churchyard--was unknown to him: Bob Clive had known them -all. He feasted on the oft-told stories of Clive's boyish -escapades: how he had bundled a watchman into the -bulks and made him prisoner there by closing down and -fastening the shutters; how he had thrown himself across -the current of a torrential gutter to divert the stream -into the cellar shop of a tradesman who had offended him; -above all, that feat of his when, ascending the spiral -turret-stair of the church, he had lowered himself down -from the parapet, and, astride upon a gargoyle, had worked -his way along it until he could secure a stone that -lay in its mouth, the perilous and dizzy adventure -watched by a breathless throng in the churchyard below. -The Bob Clive who had done these things was now doing -greater deeds in India; and Desmond Burke sat -day after day at his desk, gazing at the entrancing -"R.C." and doing over again in his own person the -exploits of which all Market Drayton was proud, and -he the proudest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at the age of fourteen his brother took him from -school, though Mr. Burslem had pleaded that he might -remain longer and afterwards proceed to the university. -He was set to do odd jobs about the farm. To farming -itself he had no objection; he was fond of animals and -would willingly have spent his life with them. But he -did object to drudging for a hard and inconsiderate -taskmaster such as his brother was, and the work he was -compelled to do became loathsome to him, and bred a spirit -of discontent and rebellion. The further news of Clive's -exploits in India, coming at long intervals, set wild -notions beating in Desmond's head, and made him -long passionately for a change. At times he thought of -running away: his father had run away and carved out -a successful career, why should not he do the same? -But he had never quite made up his mind to cut the knot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile it became known in Market Drayton that -Clive had returned to England. Rumour credited him -with fabulous wealth. It was said that he drove through -London in a gold coach, and outshone the King himself -in the splendour of his attire. No report was too highly -coloured to find easy credence among the simple country -folk. Clive was indeed rich: he had a taste for ornate -dress, and though neither so wealthy nor so gaily -apparelled as rumour said, he was for a season the lion of -London society. The directors of the East India -Company toasted him as "General" Clive, and presented him -with a jewelled sword as a token of their sense of his -services on the Coromandel coast. No one -suspected at the time that his work was of more than local -importance and would have more far-reaching consequences -than the success of a trading company. Clive -had, in fact, without knowing it, laid the foundations -of a vast empire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At intervals during two years scraps of news about -Clive filtered through to his birthplace. His father had -left the neighbourhood, and Styche Hall was now in the -hands of a stranger, so that Desmond hardly dared to -hope that he would have an opportunity of seeing his -idol. But, information having reached the court of -directors that all was not going well in India, their eyes -turned at once to Clive as the man to set things right. -They requested him to return to India as Governor of -Fort St. David, and, since a good deal of the trouble -was caused by quarrels as to precedence between the -King's and the Company's officers, they strengthened his -hands by obtaining for him a lieutenant-colonel's -commission from King George. Clive was nothing loth to -take up his work again. He had been somewhat -extravagant since his arrival in England; great holes had -been made in the fortune he had brought back; and he -was still a young man, full of energy and ambition. -What was Desmond's ecstasy, then, to learn that his hero, -on the eve of his departure, had accepted an invitation -to the town of his birth, there to be entertained -by the court leet. From the bailiff and the steward of -the manor down to the javelin men and the ale-taster, -official Market Drayton was all agog to do him honour. -Desmond looked forward eagerly to this red-letter day. -His brother, as a yeoman of standing, was invited to -the banquet, and it seemed to Desmond that Richard -took a delight in taunting him, throwing cold water on his -young enthusiasm, ironically commenting on the -mistake some one had made in not including him among the -guests. His crowning stroke of cruelty was to forbid the -boy to leave the house on the great evening, so that -he might not even obtain a glimpse of Clive. But this -was too much: Desmond for the first time deliberately -defied his guardian, and though he suffered the -inevitable penalty, he had seen and heard his hero, and was -content.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-third"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE THIRD</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Mr. Marmaduke Diggle talks of -the Golden East; and our hero interrupts -an interview, and dreams dreams.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sore from his flogging, Desmond, when he slept at last, -slept heavily. Richard Burke was a stickler for early -rising, and admitted no excuses. When his brother did -not appear at the usual hour Richard went to his room, -and, smiting with his rough hand the boy's bruised -shoulders, startled him to wakefulness and pain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, slug-a-bed," he said, "you have ten minutes -for your breakfast, then you will foot it to the Hall and see -whether Sir Willoughby has returned or is expected."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning on his heel he went out to harry his labourers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond, when he came downstairs, felt too sick to -eat. He gulped a pitcher of milk, then set off for his -two-mile walk to the Hall. He was glad of the errand. -Sir Willoughby Stokes, the lord of the manor, was an -old gentleman of near seventy years, a good landlord, a -persistent Jacobite, and a confirmed bachelor. By nature -genial, he was subject to periodical attacks of the gout, -which made him terrible. At these times he betook -himself to Buxton, or Bath, or some other spa, and so -timed his return that he was always good-tempered on -rent-day, much to the relief of his tenants. He disliked -Richard Burke as a man as much as he admired him as a -tenant; but he had taken a fancy to Desmond, lent -him books from his library, took him out shooting when -the weather and Richard permitted, and played chess -with him sometimes of a rainy afternoon. His -housekeeper said that Master Desmond was the only human -being whose presence the squire could endure when the -gout was on him. In short, Sir Willoughby and -Desmond were very good friends.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had almost reached the gate of the Hall -when, at a sudden turn of the road, he came upon a man -seated upon a low hillock by the roadside, idly -swishing at the long ripe grass with a cane. At the first -glance Desmond noticed the strangely-clad right hand -of his overnight acquaintance, the shabby clothes, -the red feather, the flaming neckcloth. The man looked -up at his approach; the winning smile settled upon his -swarthy face, which daylight now revealed as seamed and -scarred; and, without stirring from his seat or desisting -from his occupation, he looked in the boy's face and said -softly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are early afoot, like the son of Anchises, my -young friend. If I mistake not, when Aeneas met the son -of Evander they joined their right hands. We have -met--let us also join hands and bid each other a very good -morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond shook hands; he did not know what to make -of this remarkable fellow who must always be quoting -from his school-books; but there was no harm in shaking -hands. He could not in politeness ask the question that -rose to his lips--why the stranger wore a mitten on one -hand; and if the man observed his curiosity he let it pass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are on business bent, I wot," continued the -stranger. "Not for the world would I delay you. But since -the hand-clasp is but a part of the ceremony of -introduction, might we not complete it by exchanging names?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Desmond Burke," said the boy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A good name, a pleasant name, a name that I know." -Desmond was conscious that the man was looking keenly -at him. "There is a gentleman of the same name--I -chanced to meet him in London--cultivating literature in -the Temple; his praenomen, I bethink me, is Edmund. -And I bethink me, too, that in the course of my -peregrinations on this planet I have more than once heard the -name of one Captain Richard Burke, a notable seaman, -in the service of our great Company. I repeat, my young -friend, your name is a good one; may you live to add -lustre to it!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Captain Burke was my father."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My prophetic soul!" exclaimed the stranger. "But -surely you are somewhat late in following the craft paternal; -you do not learn seamanship in this sylvan sphere?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True," responded Desmond with a smile. "My -father turned farmer; he died when I was a little fellow, -and I live with my mother. But you will excuse me, sir; -I have an errand to the Hall beyond us there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am rebuked. 'Nam garrulus idem est,' as our friend -Horace would say. Yet one moment. Ere we part let us -complete our interrupted ceremony. Marmaduke Diggle, -sir--plain Marmaduke Diggle, at your service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He swept off his hat with a smile. But as soon as -Desmond had passed on the smile faded. Marmaduke -Diggle's mouth became hard, and he looked after the -retreating form with a gaze in which curiosity, suspicion, -and dislike were blended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was still seated by the roadside when Desmond -returned some minutes later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A pleasant surprise, Mr. Burke," he said. "Your -business is most briefly, and let us hope happily, -despatched."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Briefly, at any rate. I only went up to the Hall to -see if the Squire was returned; it is near rent-day, and -he is not usually so late in returning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, your squires!" said Diggle with a sigh. "A -fine thing to have lands--oliveyards and vineyards, as -the Scripture saith.--You are returning? The Squire is -not at home? Permit me to accompany you some steps -on your road.--Yes, it is a fine thing to be a landlord. -It is a state of life much to be envied by poor landless -men like me. I confess I am poor--none the pleasanter -because 'tis my own fault. You behold in me, Mr. Burke, -one of the luckless. I sought fame and fortune years ago -in the fabulous East Indies----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Indies, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are interested? In me also, when I was your -age, the name stirred my blood and haunted my imagination. -Yes, 'tis nigh ten years since I first sailed from -these shores for the marvellous East. 'Multum et terris -jactatus et alto.' Twice have I made my fortune--got -me enough of the wealth of Ormus and of Ind to buy up -half your county. Twice, alas! has an unkind Fate -robbed me of my all! But, as I said, 'tis my own fault. -'Nemo contentus,' sir--you know the passage? I was -not satisfied: I must have a little more; and yet a little -more. I put my wealth forth in hazardous -enterprises--presto! it is swept away. -But I was born, sir, after all, -under a merry star. Nothing discourages me. After -a brief sojourn for recuperation in this salubrious spot -I shall return; and this time, mark you, I shall run no -risks. Five years to make my fortune; then I shall come -home, content with a round ten lakhs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is a lakh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, I forgot, you are not acquainted with these -phrases of the Orient. A lakh, my friend, is a hundred -thousand rupees, say twelve thousand pounds. And I -warrant you I will not squander it as a certain gentleman -we know squandered his."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mean General Clive?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Colonel Clive, my friend. Yes, I say Colonel Clive -has squandered his fortune. Why, he came home with -thirty lakhs at the least: and what does he do? He -must ruffle it in purple and fine linen, and feed the fat -in royal entertainments; then, forsooth, he stands for a -seat in Parliament, pours out his gold like water--to -what end? A petition is presented against his return: -the House holds an inquiry; and the end of the sorry -farce is, that Mr. Robert Clive's services are dispensed -with. When I think of the good money he has wasted---- But -then, sir, I am no politician. Colonel Clive and I -are two ruined men; 'tis a somewhat strange coincidence -that he and I are almost of an age, and that we both, -before many weeks are past, shall be crossing the ocean -once more to retrieve our fallen fortunes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Walking side by side during this conversation they -had now come into the road leading past Desmond's -home. In the distance, approaching them, appeared a -post-chaise, drawn by four galloping horses. The sight -broke the thread of the conversation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis the Squire at last!" cried Desmond. "Sure he -must have put up at Newcastle overnight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But that he was intently watching the rapid progress -of the chaise, he might have noticed a curious change of -expression on his companion's face. The smile faded, -the lips became set with a kind of grim determination. -But Diggle's pleasant tone had not altered when he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our ways part here, my friend--for the present. I -doubt not we shall meet again; and if you care to hear -of my adventures by field and flood--why, 'I will a round -unvarnished tale deliver,' as the Moor of Venice says in -the play. For the present, then, farewell!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned down a leafy lane, and had disappeared from -view before the chaise reached the spot. As it ran by, -its only occupant, a big, red-faced, white-wigged old -gentleman, caught sight of the boy and hailed him in a -rich, jolly voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha, Desmond! Home again, you see! Scotched -the enemy once more! Come and see me!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The chaise was past before Desmond could reply. He -watched it until it vanished from sight; then, feeling -somewhat cheered, went on to report to his brother that -the Squire had at last returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He felt no little curiosity about his new acquaintance. -What had brought him to so retired a spot as Market -Drayton? He could have no friends in the neighbourhood, -or he would surely not have chosen for his lodging -a place of ill repute like the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>. Yet he had -seemed to have some acquaintance with Grinsell the -innkeeper. He did not answer to Desmond's idea of an -adventurer. He was not rough of tongue or boisterous -in manner; his accent, indeed, was refined; his speech -somewhat studied, and, to judge by his allusions and his -Latin, he had some share of polite learning. Desmond -was puzzled to fit these apparent incongruities, and -looked forward with interest to further meetings with -Marmaduke Diggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the next few days they met more than once. It -was always late in the evening, always in quiet places, -and Diggle was always alone. Apparently he desired to -make no acquaintances. The gossips of the neighbourhood -seized upon the presence of a stranger at the </span><em class="italics">Four -Alls</em><span>, but they caught the barest glimpses of him; Grinsell -was as a stone wall in unresponsiveness to their inquiries; -and the black boy, if perchance a countryman met him on -the road and questioned him, shook his head and made -meaningless noises in his throat, and the countryman -would assure his cronies that the boy was as dumb as a -platter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But whenever Desmond encountered the stranger, strolling -by himself in the fields or some quiet lane, Diggle -always seemed pleased to see him, and talked to him with -the same ease and freedom, ever ready with a tag from -his school-books. Desmond did not like his Latin, but he -found compensation in the traveller's tales of which Diggle -had an inexhaustible store--tales of shipwreck and mutiny, -of wild animals and wild men, of Dutch traders and -Portuguese adventurers, of Indian nawabs and French -buccaneers. Above all was Desmond interested in stories of -India: he heard of the immense wealth of the Indian -princes; the rivalries of the English, French, and Dutch -trading companies; the keen struggle between France and -England for the preponderating influence with the natives. -Desmond was eager to hear of Clive's doings; but he -found Diggle, for an Englishman who had been in India, -strangely ignorant of Clive's career; he seemed impatient -of Clive's name, and was always more ready to talk of his -French rivals, Dupleix and Bussy. The boy was -impressed by the mystery, the colour, the romance of the -East; and after these talks with Diggle he went home -with his mind afire, and dreamed of elephants and tigers, -treasures of gold and diamonds, and fierce battles in which -English, French, and Indians weltered in seas of blood.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One morning Desmond set out for a long walk in the -direction of Newport. It was holiday on the farm; Richard -Burke allowed his men a day off once every half year when -he paid his rent. They would almost rather not have -had it, for he made himself particularly unpleasant both -before and after. On this morning he had got up in a -bad temper, and managed to find half a dozen occasions for -grumbling at Desmond before breakfast, so that the boy was -glad to get away and walk off his resentment and soreness -of heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he passed the end of the lane leading towards the -Hall, he saw two men in conversation some distance down -it. One was on horseback, the other on foot. At a second -glance he saw with surprise that the mounted man was -his brother, the other Diggle. A well-filled money-bag -hung at Richard Burke's saddle-bow; he was on his -way to the Hall to pay his rent. His back was towards -Desmond; but, as the latter paused, Richard threw a -rapid glance over his shoulder, and with a word to the -man at his side cantered away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle gave Desmond a hail and came slowly up the -lane, his face wearing its usual pleasant smile. His manner -was always very friendly, and had the effect of making -Desmond feel on good terms with himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well met, my friend," said Diggle cordially. "I was -longing for a chat. Beshrew me if I have spoken more -than a dozen words to-day, and that, to a man of my -sociable temper, not to speak of my swift and practised -tongue--'lingua celer et exercitata': you remember the -phrase of Tully's--is a sore trial."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You seemed to be having a conversation a moment -ago," said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Seemed!--that is the very word. That excellent -farmer--sure he hath a prosperous look--had mistaken me. -'Tis not the apparel makes the man; my attire is not of the -best, I admit; but, I beg you tell me frankly, would you -have taken me for a husbandman, one who with relentless -ploughshare turns the stubborn soil, as friend Horace -somewhere puts it? Would you, now?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Decidedly not. But did my brother so mistake you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your brother! Was that prosperous and well-mounted -gentleman your brother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly. He is Richard Burke, and leases the -Wilcote Farm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Noble pair of brothers!" exclaimed Diggle, seizing -Desmond's reluctant hand. "I congratulate you, my friend. -What a brother! I stopped him to ask the time of day. -But permit me to say, friend Desmond, you appear -somewhat downcast; your countenance hath not that serenity -one looks for in a lad of your years. What is the trouble?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, nothing to speak of," said Desmond curtly; he -was vexed that his face still betrayed the irritation of the -morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," said Diggle with a shrug. "Far be it -from me to probe your sorrows. They are nothing to me, -but sure a simple question from a friend----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pardon me, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond impulsively, -"I did not mean to offend you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear boy, a tough-hided traveller does not easily -take offence.--Shall we walk?--D'you know, Master -Desmond, I fancy I could make a shrewd guess at your trouble. -Your brother--Richard, I think you said?--is a farmer, he -was born a farmer, he has the air of a farmer, and a -well-doing farmer to boot. But we are not all born with a love -for mother-earth, and you, meseems, have dreamed of a -larger life than lies within the pinfolds of a farm. To tell -the truth, my lad, I have been studying you." They were -walking now side by side along the Newport road. -Desmond felt that the stranger was becoming personal; but -his manner was so suave and sympathetic that he could -not take offence. "Yes, I have been studying you," -continued Diggle. "And what is the sum of my discovery? -You are wasting your life here. A country village is no -place for a boy of ideas and imagination, of warm blood -and springing fancy. The world is wide, my friend: why -not adventure forth?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have indeed thought of it, Mr. Diggle, but----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But me no buts," interrupted Diggle with a smile. -"Your age is----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Near sixteen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, still a boy; you have a year ere you reach the -bourn of young manhood, as the Romans held it! But -what matters that? Was not Scipio Africanus--namesake -of the ingenuous youth that serves me--styled boy -at twenty? Yet you are old enough to walk alone, and -not in leading strings,--or waiting maybe for dead men's -shoes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, sir?" Desmond flashed out, -reddening with indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do I offend?" said Diggle innocently. "I make my -apology. But I had heard, I own, that Master Desmond -Burke was in high favour with your squire; 'tis even -whispered that Master Desmond cherishes, cultivates, -cossets the old man--a bachelor, I understand, and -wealthy, and lacking kith or kin. Sure I should never have -believed 'twas with any dishonourable motive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis not, sir. I never thought of such a thing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was sure of it. But to come back to my starting-point. -'Tis time you broke these narrow bounds. India, -now--what better sphere for a young man bent on making -his way? Look at Clive, whom you admire--as stupid a -boy as you could meet in a day's march. Why, I can -remember----" He caught himself up, but after the -slightest pause resumed: "'Forsan et haec olim -meminisse juvabit.' Look at Clive, I was saying; a lout, a -bear, a booby--as a boy, mark you; yet now----! Is -there a man whose name rings more loudly in the world's -ear? And what Robert Clive is, that Desmond Burke -might be if he had the mind and the will.--You are going -farther? Ah, I have not your love of ambulation. I will -bid you farewell for this time; sure it will profit you to -ponder my words."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond did ponder his words. He walked for three -or four hours, thinking all the time. Who had said that -he was waiting for the squire's shoes? He glowed with -indignation at the idea of such a construction being placed -upon his friendship for Sir Willoughby. "If they think -that," he said to himself, "the sooner I go away the -better." And the seed planted by Diggle took root and began to -germinate with wonderful rapidity. To emulate Clive!--what -would he not give for the chance? But how was -it possible? Clive had begun as a writer in the service of -the East India Company; but how could Desmond -procure a nomination? Perhaps Sir Willoughby could help -him; he might have influence with the Company's directors. -But, supposing he obtained a nomination, how could he -purchase his outfit? He had but a few guineas, and after -what Diggle had said he would starve rather than ask the -squire for a penny. True, under his father's will he was -to receive five thousand pounds at the age of twenty-one. -Would Richard advance part of the sum? Knowing -Richard, he hardly dared to hope for such a departure -from the letter of the law. But it was at least worth -attempting.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-fourth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE FOURTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which blows are exchanged; and our hero, -setting forth upon his travels, scents an -adventure</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>That same day, at supper, seeing that Richard was -apparently in a good temper, Desmond ventured to make -a suggestion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dick," he said frankly, "don't you think it would -be better for all of us if I went away? You and I don't -get along very well, and perhaps I was not cut out for a -farmer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Richard grunted, and Mrs. Burke looked apprehensively -from one to the other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's your idea?" asked Richard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I had thought of a writership in the East India -Company's service, or better still, a cadetship in the -Company's forces."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hark to him!" exclaimed Richard, with a scornful -laugh. "A second Clive, sink me! And where do you -suppose the money is to come from?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Couldn't you advance a part of what is to come to me -when I am twenty-one?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a penny, I tell you at once, not a penny. 'Tis -enough to be saddled with you all these years. You may -think yourself lucky if I can scrape together a tenth of -the money that'll be due to you when you're twenty-one. -That's the dead hand, if you like; why father put that -provision in his will it passes common sense to understand. -No, you'll have to stay and earn part of it, though in truth -you'll never be worth your keep."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That depends on the keeper," retorted Desmond, -rather warmly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No insolence, now. I repeat, I will not advance one -penny. Go and get some money out of the Squire, that is -so precious fond of you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Richard, Richard!" said his mother anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother, I'm the boy's guardian. I know what it is. -He has been crammed with nonsense by that idle knave at -the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>. Look 'ee, my man, if I catch you speaking -to him again, I'll flay your skin for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why shouldn't I? I saw you speaking to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold your tongue, sir. The dog accosted me. I -answered his question and passed on. Heed what I say: -I'm a man of my word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond said no more. But before he fell asleep that -night he had advanced one step further towards freedom. -His request had met with the refusal he had anticipated. -He could hope for no pecuniary assistance; it remained to -see what could be done without money; and he resolved -to take the first opportunity of consulting Diggle. It was -Diggle who had suggested India as the field for his -ambition; and the suggestion would hardly have been made -if there were great obstacles in the way of its being acted -on. Desmond made light of his brother's command that -he should cut Diggle's acquaintance; it seemed to him -only another act of tyranny, and his relations with Richard -were such that to forbid a thing was to provoke him to do it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His opportunity came next day. Late in the afternoon -he met Diggle, as he had done many times before, walking -in the fields, remote from houses. When Desmond caught -sight of him, he was sauntering along, his eyes bent upon -the ground, his face troubled. But he smiled on seeing -Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well met, friend," he said; "'leni perfruor otio'--which -is as much as to say--I bask in idleness. Well -now, I perceive in your eye that you have been meditating -my counsel. 'Tis well, friend Desmond. And whereto has -your meditation arrived?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have thought over what you said. I do wish to get -away from here; I should like to go to India; indeed, I -asked my brother to advance a part of some money that is -to come to me, so that I might obtain service with the -Company; but he refused."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you come to me for counsel. 'Tis well done, -though I trow your brother would scarce be pleased to -hear of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He forbade me to speak to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Egad he did! 'Haec summa est!' What has he -against me?--a question to be asked. I am a stranger in -these parts: that is ill; and buffeted by fortune: that is -worse; and somewhat versed in humane letters: that, to -the rustic intelligence, is a crime. Well, my lad, you have -come to the right man at the right time. You are -acquainted with my design shortly to return to the Indies--a -rare field for a lad of mettle. You shall come with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But are you connected with the Company? None -other, I believed, have a right to trade."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Company! Sure, my lad, I am no friend to the -Company, a set of stiff-necked, ignorant, grasping, paunchy -peddlers who fatten at home on the toil of better men. -No, I am an adventurer, I own it; I am an interloper; -and we interlopers, despite the Company's monopoly, yet -contrive to keep body and soul together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I should not sail to India on a Company's ship?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Far from it, indeed. But let not that disturb you, -there are other vessels. And for the passage--why, sure -I could find you a place as supercargo or some such thing; -you would thus keep the little money you have and add to -it, forming a nest-egg which, I say it without boasting, I -could help you to hatch into a fine brood. I am not -without friends in the Indies, my dear boy; there are princes -in that land whom I have assisted to their thrones; and if, -on behalf of a friend, I ask of them some slight thing, -provided it be honest--'tis the first law of friendship, says -Tully, as you will remember, to seek honest things for our -friends--if, I say, on your behalf, I proffer some slight -request, sure the nawabs will vie to pleasure me, and the -foundation of your fortune will be laid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had not observed that, during this eloquent -passage, Diggle had more than once glanced beyond him, -as though his mind were not wholly occupied with his -oratorical efforts. It was therefore with something of a -shock that he heard him say in the same level tone:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I perceive your brother approaching. I am not -the man to cause differences between persons near akin; -I will therefore leave you; we will have further speech on -the subject of our discourse."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He moved away. A moment after, Richard Burke came -up in a towering passion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You brave me, do you?" he cried. "Did I not forbid -you to converse with that vagabond?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have no right to dictate to me on such matters," -said Desmond hotly, facing his brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've no right, haven't I?" shouted Richard. "I've -a guardian's right to thrash you if you disobey me, and by -George! I'll keep my promise."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He lifted the riding whip, without which he seldom went -abroad, and struck at Desmond. But the boy's blood was -up. He sprang aside as the thong fell; it missed him, -and before the whip could be raised again he had leapt -towards his brother. Wrenching the stock from his grasp, -Desmond flung the whip over the hedge into a green-mantled -pool, and stood, his cheeks pale, his fists clenched, -his eyes flaming, before the astonished man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Coward!" he cried, "'tis the last time you lay hands -on me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Recovered from his amazement at Desmond's resistance, -Richard, purple with wrath, advanced to seize the boy. -But Desmond, nimbly evading his clutch, slipped his foot -within his brother's, and with a dexterous movement -tripped him up, so that he fell sprawling, with many an -oath, on the miry road. Before he could regain his feet, -Desmond had vaulted the hedge and set off at a run -towards home. Diggle was nowhere in sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The die was now cast. Never before had Desmond -actively retaliated upon his brother, and he knew him well -enough to be sure that such an affront was unforgivable. -The farm would no longer be safe for him. With startling -suddenness his vague notions of leaving home were -crystallized into a resolve. No definite plan formed itself -in his mind as he raced over the fields. He only knew -that the moment for departure had come, and he was -hastening now to secure the little money he possessed and -to make a bundle of his clothes and the few things he -valued before Richard could return. Reaching the Grange, -he slipped quietly upstairs, not daring to face his mother -lest her grief should weaken his resolution, and in five -minutes he returned with his bundle. He stole out through -the garden, skirted the copse that bounded the farm -enclosure, and ran for half a mile up the lane until he felt -that he was out of reach. Then, breathless with haste, -quivering with the shock of this sudden plunge into -independence, he sat down on the grassy bank to reflect.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>What had he done? It was no light thing for a boy of -his years, ignorant of life and the world, to cut himself -adrift from old ties and voyage into the unknown. Had -he been wise? He had no trade as a stand-by; his whole -endowment was his youth and his wits. Would they -suffice? Diggle's talk had opened up an immense -prospect, full of colour and mystery and romance, chiming -well with his day-dreams. Was it possible that, sailing -to India, he might find some of his dreams come true? -Could he trust Diggle, a stranger, by his own admission -an adventurer, a man who had run through two fortunes -already? He had no reason for distrust; Diggle was well -educated, a gentleman, frank, amiable. What motive -could he have for leading a boy astray?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mingled with Desmond's Irish impulsiveness there was -a strain of caution derived from the stolid English yeomen -his forebears on the maternal side. He felt the need, before -crossing his Rubicon, of taking counsel with some one older -and wiser--with a tried friend. Sir Willoughby Stokes, -the squire, had always been kind to him. Would it not -be well to put his case to the Squire and follow his advice? -But he durst not venture to the Hall yet. His brother -might suspect his errand and seize him there, or -intercept him on the way. He would wait. It was the -Squire's custom to spend a quiet hour in his own room -long after the time when other folk in that rural -neighbourhood were abed. Desmond sometimes sat with him -there, reading or playing chess. If he went up to the Hall -at nine o'clock he would be sure of a welcome.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The evening passed slowly for Desmond in his enforced -idleness. At nine o'clock, leaving his bundle in a hollow -tree, he set off toward the Hall, taking a short cut across -the fields. It was a dark night, and he stopped with a -start as, on descending a stile overhung by a spreading -sycamore, he almost struck against a person who had just -preceded him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's that?" he asked quickly, stepping back a little: -it was unusual to meet any one in the fields at so late an -hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be that you, Measter Desmond?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, 'tis you, Dickon. What are you doing this way -at such an hour? You ought to have been abed long ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, sure, Measter Desmond; but I be goin' to see -Squire," said the old man, apparently with some hesitation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's odd. So am I. We may as well walk together, -then--for fear of the ghosts, eh, Dickon?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I binna afeard o' ghosts, not I. True, 'tis odd I be -goin' to see Squire. I feel it so. Squire be a high man, -and I ha' never dared lift up my voice to him oothout -axen. But 'tis to be. I ha' summat to tell him, low-born -as I be; ay, I mun tell him, cost what it may."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he's not a dragon. I have something to tell -him too--cost what it may."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was silence for a space. Then Dickon said, -tremulously:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bin it a great matter, yourn, sir, I make bold to ax?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's as it turns out, Dickon. But what is it with -you, old man? Is aught amiss?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not wi' me, sir, not wi' me, thank the Lord above. -But I seed ya, Measter Desmond, t'other day, in speech -win that--that Diggle as he do call hisself, and--and, I -tell ya true, sir, I dunna like the looks on him; no, he -binna a right man; an' I were afeard as he med ha' bin -fillin' yer head wi' fine tales about the wonders o' the -world an' all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that all, Dickon? You fear my head may be -turned, eh? Don't worry about me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, sir, ya may think me bold, but I do say this: -If so be ya gets notions in yer head--notions o' goin' out -alone an' seein' the world an' all, go up an' ax Squire -about it. Squire he done have a wise head; he'll advise ya -fur the best; an' sure I bin he'd warn ya not to have no -dealin's win that Diggle, as he do call hisself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, does the Squire know him, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis my belief Squire do know everything an' every -body. Diggle he med not know, to be sure, but if so be -ya say 'tis a lean man, wi' sharp nose, an' black eyes like -live coals, an' a smilin' mouth--why, Squire knows them -sort, he done, and wouldna trust him not a' ell. But maybe -ya'd better go on, sir: my old shanks be slow fur one so -young an' nimble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No hurry, Dickon. Lucky the Squire was used to -London hours in his youth, or we'd find him abed. See, -there's a light in the Hall; 'tis in the strong-room next to -the library; Sir Willoughby is reckoning up his rents -maybe, though 'tis late for that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ya knows the Hall, true. Theer be a terrible deal -o' gowd an' silver up in that room, fur sure, more'n a -aged man like me could tell in a week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The light is moving; it seems Sir Willoughby is finishing -up for the night. I hope we shall not be too late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But at this moment a winding of the path brought -another face of the Hall into view.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Dickon," exclaimed Desmond, "there's another -light; 'tis the Squire's own room. He cannot be in two -places at once; 'tis odd at this time of night. Come, stir -your stumps, old man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They hurried along, scrambling through the hedge that -bounded the field, Desmond leaping, Dickon wading, the -brook that ran alongside the road. Turning to the left, -they came to the front entrance to the Hall, and passed -through the wicket-gate into the grounds. They could -see the Squire's shadow on the blind of the parlour; but -the lighted window of the strong-room was now hidden -from them. Stepping in that direction, to satisfy a strange -curiosity he felt, Desmond halted in amazement as he saw, -faintly silhouetted against the sky, a ladder placed against -the wall, resting on the sill of the strong-room. His -surprise at seeing lights in two rooms, in different wings -of the house, so late at night, changed to misgiving and -suspicion. He hastened back to Dickon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fear some mischief is afoot," he said. Drawing the -old man into the shade of a shrubbery, he added: "Remain -here; do not stir until I come for you, or unless you hear -me call."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaving Dickon in trembling perplexity and alarm, he -stole forward on tip-toe towards the house.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-fifth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE FIFTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Job Grinsell explains; and three -visitors come by night to the "Four Alls."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At the foot of the wall lay a flower-bed, now bare and -black, separated by a gravel path from a low shrubbery of -laurel. Behind this latter Desmond stole, screened from -observation by the bushes. Coming to a spot exactly -opposite the ladder, he saw that it rested on the sill of the -library window, which was open. The library itself was -dark, but there was still a dull glow in the next room. At -the foot of the ladder stood a man. The meaning of it all -was plain. The large sum of money recently received by -Sir Willoughby as rents had tempted some one to rob him. -The robber must have learnt that the money was kept in -the strong-room; and it argued either considerable daring -or great ignorance to have timed his visit for an hour -when any one familiar with the Squire's habits would have -known that he would not yet have retired to rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was about to run round to the other side of -the house and rouse the Squire when the dim light in the -strong-room was suddenly extinguished. Apparently the -confederate of the man below had secured his booty and -was preparing to return. Desmond remained fixed to the -spot, in some doubt what to do. He might call to Dickon -and make a rush on the man before him; but the labourer -was old and feeble, and the criminal was no doubt armed. -A disturber would probably be shot, and though the report -would alarm the household, the burglars would have time -to escape in the darkness. Save Sir Willoughby himself, -doubtless every person in the house was by this time abed -asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed best to Desmond to send Dickon for help -while he himself still mounted guard. Creeping silently -as a cat along the shrubbery, he hastened back to the -labourer, told him in a hurried whisper of his discovery, -and bade him steal round to the servants' quarters, rouse -them quietly, and bring one or two to trap the man at the -foot of the ladder while others made a dash through the -library upon the marauder in the strong-room. Dickon, -whose wits were nimbler than his legs, understood what -he was to do and slipped away, Desmond returning to his -coign of vantage as noiselessly as he came.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was just in time to see that a heavy object, apparently -a box, was being lowered from the library window -on to the ladder. Sliding slowly down, it came to the hands -of the waiting man; immediately afterwards the rope by -which it had been suspended was dropped from above, -and the dark figure of a man mounted the sill.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He already had one leg over, preparing to descend, -when Desmond, with a sudden rush, dashed through the -shrubs and sprang across the path. The confederate was -stooping over the booty; his back was towards the -shrubbery; at the snapping of twigs and the crunching of the -gravel he straightened himself and turned. Before he was -aware of what was happening, Desmond caught at the -ladder by the lowest rung, and jerked it violently outwards -so that its top fell several feet below the window-sill, -resting on the wall out of reach of the man above. Desmond -heard a smothered exclamation break from the fellow, but -he could pay no further attention to him, for, as he rose -from stooping over the ladder, he was set upon by a burly -form. He dodged behind the ladder. The man sprang -after him, blindly, clumsily, and tripped over the box. But -he was up in a moment, and, reckless of the consequences -of raising an alarm, was fumbling for a pistol, when -there fell upon his ears a shout, the tramp of hurrying -feet, and the sound of another window being thrown open.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a muffled curse he swung on his heel, and made to -cross the gravel path and plunge into the shrubbery. But -Desmond was too quick for him. Springing upon his -back, he caught his arms, thus preventing him from using -his pistol. He was a powerful man, and Desmond alone -would have been no match for him; but before he could -wriggle himself entirely free, three half-clad men-servants -came up with a rush, and in a trice he was secured.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the excitement of these close-packed moments -Desmond had forgotten the other man, whom he had last seen -with his leg dangling over the window-sill. He looked up -now; the window was still open; the ladder lay exactly -where he had jerked it; evidently the robber had not -descended.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quick!" cried Desmond. "Round to the door! The -other fellow will escape!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He himself sprinted round the front of the house to the -door by which the servants had issued, and met the Squire -hobbling along on his stick, pistol in hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We have got one, sir!" cried Desmond. "Have you -seen the other?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What--why--how many villains are there?" replied -the Squire, who between amazement and wrath was -scarcely able to appreciate the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was a man in the library; he did not come -down the ladder; he may be still in the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The deuce he is! Desmond, take the pistol, and shoot -the knave like a dog if you meet him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll guard the door, Sir Willoughby. They are bringing -the other man round. Then we'll all go into the house -and search. He can't get out without being seen if the -other doors are locked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Locked and barred. I did it myself an hour ago. -I'll hang the villain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a few moments the servants came up with their captive -and the box, old Dickon following. Only their figures -could be seen: it was too dark to distinguish features.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You scoundrel!" cried the Squire, brandishing his -stick. "You'll hang for this. Take him into the house. -In with you all. You scoundrel!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An you please, Sir Willoughby, 'tis----" began one -of the servants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In with you, I say," roared the Squire. "I'll know -how to deal with the villain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The culprit was hustled into the house, and the group -followed, Sir Willoughby bringing up the rear. Inside -he barred and locked the door, and bade the men carry -their prisoner to the library. The corridors and staircase -were dark; but by the time the Squire had mounted on his -gouty legs candles had been lighted, and the face of the -housebreaker was for the first time visible. Two servants -held the man; the others, with Desmond and Dickon, -looked on in amazement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Job Grinsell, on my soul and body!" cried the Squire. -"You villain! You ungrateful knave! Is this how you -repay me? I might have hanged you, you scoundrel, -when you poached my game; a word from me and Sir -Philip would have seen you whipped before he let his inn -to you; but I was too kind; I am a fool; and you---- -by gad, you shall hang this time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Squire's face was purple with anger, and he shook -his stick as though then and there he would have wrought -chastisement on the offender. Grinsell's flabby face, -however, expressed amusement rather than fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bless my soul!" cried the Squire, suddenly turning to -his men, "I'd forgotten the other villain. Off with you; -search for him; bring him here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had already set off to look for Grinsell's -accomplice. Taper in hand he went quickly from room to room; -joined by the Squire's servants, he searched every nook -and cranny of the house, examining doors and windows, -opening cupboards, poking at curtains--all in vain. At -last, at the end of a dark corridor, he came upon an -open window some ten feet above the ground. It was so -narrow that a man of ordinary size must have had some -difficulty in squeezing his shoulders through; but -Desmond was forced to the conclusion that the housebreaker -had sprung out here, and by this time had made good his -escape. Disappointed at his failure, he returned with the -servants to the library.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can't find him, Sir Willoughby," said Desmond, -as he opened the door. To his surprise, Grinsell and -Dickon were gone; no one but the Squire was in the -room, and he was sitting in a big chair, limp and listless, -his eyes fixed upon the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can't find him," repeated Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Squire looked up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What did you say?" he asked, as though the events -of the past half-hour were a blank. "Oh, 'tis you, -Desmond, yes; what can I do for you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was embarrassed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I--we have--we have looked for the other villain, Sir -Willoughby," he stammered. "We can't find him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! 'Twas you gave the alarm. Good boy; zeal; -excellent; but a little mistake; yes, Grinsell explained; a -mistake, Desmond."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Squire spoke hurriedly, disconnectedly, with an -embarrassment even greater than Desmond's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But, sir," the boy began, "I saw----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, yes," interrupted the old man. "I know all -about it. But Grinsell's explanation--yes, I know all -about it. I am obliged to you, Desmond; but I am -satisfied with Grinsell's explanation; I shall go no further -in the matter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He groaned and put his hand to his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you ill, Sir Willoughby?" asked Desmond -anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Squire looked up; his face was an image of distress. -He was silent for a moment; then said slowly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sick at heart, Desmond, sick at heart. I am an old -man--an old man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was uncomfortable. He had never seen the -Squire in such a mood, and had a healthy boy's natural -uneasiness at any display of feeling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see that portrait?" the Squire went on, pointing -wearily with his stick at the head of a young man done -in oils. "The son of my oldest friend--my dear old -friend Merriman. I never told you of him. Nine years -ago, Desmond--nine years ago, my old friend was as -hale and hearty a man as I myself, and George was the -apple of his eye. They were for the King--God save -him!--and when word came that Prince Charles was -marching south from Scotland they arranged secretly with -a party of loyal gentlemen to join him. But I hung -back, I had not their courage: I am alive, and I lost my -friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His voice sank, and, leaning heavily upon his stick, he -gazed vacantly into space. Desmond was perplexed, and -still more ill at ease. What had this to do with the -incidents of the night? He shrank from asking the question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I lost my friend," the Squire continued. "We -had news of the Prince; he had left Carlisle; he was -moving southwards, about to strike a blow for his father's -throne. He was approaching Derby. George Merriman -sent a message to his friends, appointing a rendezvous: -gallant gentlemen, they would join the Stuart flag! The -day came, they met, and the minions of the Hanoverian -surrounded them. Betrayed!--poor loyal -gentlemen!--betrayed by one who had their confidence and abused -it--one of my own blood, Desmond--the shame of it! They -were tried, hanged--hanged! It broke my old friend's -heart; he died; 'twas one of my blood that killed him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again speech failed him. Then, with a sudden change -of manner, he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But 'tis late, boy; your brother keeps early hours. I -am not myself to-night, the memory of the past unnerves -me. Bid me good-night, boy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond hesitated, biting his lips. What of the motive -of his visit? He had come to ask advice: could he go -without having mentioned the subject that troubled him? -The old man had sunk into a reverie, his lips moved as -though he communed with himself. Desmond had not the -heart to intrude his concerns on one so bowed with grief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-night, Sir Willoughby!" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Squire paid no heed, and Desmond, vexed, bewildered, -went slowly from the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the outer door he found Dickon awaiting him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Squire has let Grinsell go, Dickon," he said; "he -says 'twas all a mistake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If Squire says it, then 't must be," said Dickon slowly, -nodding his head. "We'n better be goin' home, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you had something to tell Sir Willoughby?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay sure, but he knows it--knows it better'n me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Dickon, what is this mystery? I am in a -maze: what is it, man?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Binna fur a' aged poor feller like me to say. We'n -better go home, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nothing that Desmond said prevailed upon Dickon to -tell more, and the two started homewards across the -fields. Some minutes afterwards they heard the sound -of a horse's hoofs clattering on the road to their left, and -going in the same direction. It was an unusual sound at -that late hour, and both stopped instinctively and looked -at each other.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A late traveller, Dickon," said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, maybe a king's post, Measter Desmond," replied -the old man. Without more words they went on till they -came to a lane leading to the labourer's cottage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We part here," said Desmond. "Dickon, good-night!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-night to you, sir!" said the old man. He -paused: then in a grave, earnest, quavering voice, he -added: "The Lord Almighty have you in His keeping, -Measter Desmond, watch over you night and day, now -and evermore."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with that he hobbled down the lane.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At nine o'clock that night Richard Burke left the -Grange--an unusual thing for him--and walked quickly -to the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>. The inn was closed, and shutters -darkened the windows; but, seeing a chink of light between -the folds, the farmer knocked at the door. There was -no answer. He knocked again and again, grumbling -under his breath; at length, when his patience was almost -exhausted, a window above opened, and, looking up, -Mr. Burke dimly saw a head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Grinsell?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, massa."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, you're the black boy, Mr. Diggle's servant. Is -your master in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, massa."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, come down and open the door. I'll wait for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Massa said no open door for nuffin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confound you, open at once! He knows me, I'm a -friend of his; open the door!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Massa said no open door for nobody."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The farmer pleaded, stormed, cursed, but Scipio Africanus -was inflexible. His master had given him orders, -and the boy had learnt, at no little cost, that it was the -wisest and safest policy to obey. Finding that neither -threats nor persuasion availed, Burke took a stride or -two in the direction of home; then he halted, pondered -for a moment, changed his mind, and began to pace up -and down the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His restless movements were by and by checked by the -sound of footsteps approaching. He crossed the road, -stood in the shadow of an elm, and waited. The -footsteps drew nearer; he heard low voices, and now -discerned two dark figures against the lighter road. They -came to the inn and stopped. One of them took a key -from his pocket and inserted it in the lock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis you at last," said Burke, stepping out from his -place of concealment. "That boy of yours would not let -me in, hang him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the first words Diggle started and swung round, his -right hand flying to his pocket; but recognizing the voice -almost immediately, he laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis you, my friend," he said. "'Multa de nocte -profectus es.' But you've forgot all your Latin, Dick. -What is the news, man? Come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The bird is flitting, Sim, that's all. He has not been -home. His mother was in a rare to-do. I pacified her, -told her I'd sent him to Chester to sell oats--haw, haw! -He has taken some clothes and gone. But he won't go -far, I trow, without seeing you, and I look to you to carry -out the bargain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Egad, Dick, I need no persuasion. He won't go -without me, I promise you that. I've a bone to pick -with him myself--eh, friend Job?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grinsell swore a hearty oath. At this moment the -silence without was broken by the sound of a trotting horse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the door bolted?" whispered Burke. "I mustn't -be seen here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trust me fur that," said Grinsell. "But no one will -stop here at this time o' night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the three men stood silent, listening. The sound -steadily grew louder; the horse was almost abreast of -the inn; it was passing--but no, it came to a halt; -they heard a man's footsteps, and the sound of the bridle -being hitched to a hook in the wall. Then there was a -sharp rap at the door.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who's there?" cried Grinsell gruffly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Open the door instantly," said a loud, masterful voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Burke looked aghast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can't let him in," he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others exchanged glances.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Open the door," cried the voice again. "D'you hear, -Grinsell? At once!--or I ride to Drayton for the -constables!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grinsell gave Diggle a meaning look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Slip out by the back door, Mr. Burke," said the -innkeeper. "I'll make a noise with the bolts so that he -cannot hear you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Burke hastily departed, and Grinsell, after long, loud -fumbling with the bolts, threw open the door and gave -admittance to the Squire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, you are here both," said Sir Willoughby, standing -in the middle of the floor, his riding-whip in his hand. -"Now, Mr.--Diggle, I think you call yourself. I'm a -man of few words, as you know. I have to say this. -I give you till eight o'clock to-morrow morning; if you -are not gone, bag and baggage, by that time, I will issue -a warrant. Is that clear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Perfectly," said Diggle with his enigmatical smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And one word more. Show your face again in these -parts and I will have you arrested. I have spared you -twice for your mother's sake. This is my last warning. -Grinsell, you hear that too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hear 't," growled the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember it, for, mark my words, you'll share his fate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Squire was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Grinsell scowled with malignant spite; Diggle laughed -softly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Quanta de spe decidi!'" he said, "which in plain -English, friend Job, means that we are dished--utterly, -absolutely. I must go on my travels again; well, such -was my intention; the only difference is, that I go with -an empty purse instead of a full one. Who'd have thought -the old dog would ha' been such an unconscionable time -dying!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gout or no gout, he's good for another ten year," -growled the innkeeper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'll give him five. And with the boy out of -the way, maybe I'll come to my own even yet. The -young puppy!" At this moment Diggle's face was by -no means pleasant to look upon. "Fate has always had -a grudge against me, Job. In the old days, I bethink -me, 'twas I that was always found out. You had many -an escape."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Till the last. But I've come out of this well." He -chuckled. "To think what a fool blood makes of a man! -Squire winna touch me, 'cause of you. But it must gall -him; ay, it must gall him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hist!" said Diggle suddenly. "There are footsteps -again. Is it Burke coming back? The door's open, Job."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The innkeeper went to the door and peered into the -dark. A slight figure came up at that moment--a boy, -with a bundle in his hand.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, Grinsell? Is Mr. Diggle in?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come in, my friend," said Diggle, hastening to the -door. "We were just talking of you. Come in; 'tis a -late hour; 'si vespertinus subito'--you remember old -Horace? True, we haven't a hen to baste with -Falernian for you, but sure friend Job can find a wedge of -Cheshire and a mug of ale. Come in."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Desmond went into the inn.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-sixth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE SIXTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the reader becomes acquainted with -William Bulger and other sailor men; -and our hero as a squire of dames acquits -himself with credit.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>One warm October afternoon, some ten days after the night -of his visit to the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>, Desmond was walking along -the tow-path of the Thames, somewhat north of Kingston. -As he came to the spot where the river bends round towards -Teddington, he met a man plodding along with a rope over -his shoulder, hauling a laden hoy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you tell me the way to the </span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span>?" -asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, that can I," replied the man without stopping. -"'Tis about a quarter-mile behind me, right on waterside. -And the best beer this side o' Greenwich."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thanking him, Desmond walked on. He had not gone -many yards further before there fell upon his ear, from -some point ahead, the sound of several rough voices raised -in chorus, trolling a tune that seemed familiar to -him. As he came nearer to the singers, he distinguished -the words of the song, and remembered the occasion on -which he had heard them before: the evening of Clive's -banquet at Market Drayton--the open window of the -</span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>, the voice of Marmaduke Diggle.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Sir William Norris, Masulipatam--</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>these were the first words he caught; and immediately -afterwards the voices broke into the second verse:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Says Governor Pitt, Fort George, Madras,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>"I know what you are: an ass, an ass,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>An ass, an ass, an ASS, an ASS,"</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Signed "Governor Pitt, Fort George, Madras."</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>And at the conclusion there was a clatter of metal upon -wood, and then one voice, loud and rotund, struck up -the first verse once more--</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Says Billy Norris, Masulipatam--</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The singer was in the middle of the stave when Desmond, -rounding a privet hedge, came upon the scene. A patch -of greensward, sloping up from a slipway on the -riverside; a low, cosy-looking inn of red brick covered with -a crimson creeper; in front of it a long deal table, and -seated at the table a group of some eight or ten seamen, -each with a pewter tankard before him. To the left, -and somewhat in the rear of the long table, was a smaller -one, at which two seamen, by their garb a cut above the -others, sat opposite each other, intent on some game.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's attention was drawn towards the larger table. -Rough as was the common seaman of George the Second's -time, the group here collected would have been hard to -match for villainous looks. One had half his teeth knocked -out, another a broken nose; all bore scars and other marks -of battery.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Among them, however, there was one man marked out -by his general appearance and facial expression as superior -to the rest. In dress he was no different from his mates; -he wore the loose blouse, the pantaloons, the turned-up -cloth hat of the period. But he towered above them in -height; he had a very large head, with a very small squab -nose, merry eyes, and a fringe of jet-black hair round -cheeks and chin. When he removed his hat presently he -revealed a shiny pink skull, rising from short wiry hair -as black as his whiskers. Alone of the group, he wore -no love-locks or greased pigtail. In his right hand, when -Desmond first caught sight of him, he held a tankard, -waving it to and fro in time with his song. He had lost -his left hand and forearm, which were replaced by an iron -hook projecting from a wooden socket, just visible in his -loose sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was half-way through the second stanza when he -noticed Desmond standing at the angle of the hedge a -few yards away. He fixed his merry eyes on the boy, and, -beating time with his hook, went on with the song in -stentorian tones--</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>An ass, an ass, an ASS, an ASS,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Signed "Governor Pitt, Fort George, Madras."</span></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The others took up the chorus, and finally brought their -tankards down upon the deal with a resounding whack.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ahoy, Mother Wiggs, more beer!" shouted the big man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond went forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is this the </span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, young gen'leman, and a blamed restful place -it is, too, fit for watermen what en't naught but landlubbers, -speaking by the book, but not for the likes of us -jack tars. Eh, mateys?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His companions grunted acquiescence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a message for Mr. Toley; is he here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, that he is. That's him at the table yonder. -Mr. Toley, sir, a young gen'leman to see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond advanced to the smaller table. The two men -looked up from their game of dominoes. One was a tall, -lean fellow, with lined and sunken cheeks covered with -iron-gray stubble, a very sharp nose, and colourless eyes; -the expression of his features was melancholy in the extreme. -The other was a shorter man, snub-nosed, big-mouthed; -one eye was blue, the other green, and they looked in -contrary directions. His hat was tilted forward, resting -on two bony prominences above his eyebrows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?" said Mr. Toley, the man of melancholy countenance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a message from Captain Barker," said Desmond. -"I am to say that he expects you and the men at -Custom House Quay next Wednesday morning, high tide -at five o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Toley lifted the tankard at his left hand, drained it, -smacked his lips, then said in a hollow voice:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bulger, Custom House Quay, Wednesday morning, -five o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A grunt of satisfaction and relief rolled round the -company, and in response to repeated cries for more beer a -stout woman in a mob cap and dirty apron came from the -inn with a huge copper can, from which she proceeded to -fill the empty tankards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the press still hot, sir?" asked Mr. Toley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Four men, I was told, were hauled out of the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> yesterday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And four bad bargains for the King," put in the second -man, whose cross glances caused Desmond no little discomfort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment Joshua Wiggs the innkeeper came up, -carrying three fowling-pieces.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There be plenty o' ducks to-day, mister," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then we'll try our luck," said Mr. Toley, rising. -"Thank 'ee, my lad," he added to Desmond. "You'll -take a sup with the men afore you go? Bulger, see to -the gentleman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, sir. Come aboard, matey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He made a place for Desmond at his side on the bench, -and called to Mother Wiggs to bring a mug for the -gentleman. Meanwhile, Mr. Toley and his companion had each -taken a fowling-piece and gone away with the landlord. -Bulger winked at his companions, and when the sportsmen -were out of earshot he broke into a guffaw.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rare sport they'll have! I wouldn't be in Mr. Toley's -shoes for something. What's a cock-eyed man want with -a gun in his hand, eh, mateys?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt somewhat out of his element in his present -company; but having reasons of his own for making -himself pleasant, he said, by way of opening a -conversation:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You seem pleased at the idea of going to sea again, -Mr. Bulger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, we are and we en't, eh, mateys? The </span><em class="italics">Waterman's -Rest</em><span> en't exactly the kind of place to spend shore -leave; it en't a patch on Wapping or Rotherhithe. And -to tell 'ee true, we're dead sick of it. But there's reasons; -there mostly is; and the whys and wherefores, therefores -and becauses, I dessay you know, young gen'leman, -a-comin' from Captain Barker."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The press-gang?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, the press is hot in these days. Cap'n sent us here -to be out o' the way, and the orficers to look arter us. -Not but what 'tis safer for them too; for if Mr. Sunman -showed his cock-eyes anywhere near the Pool, he'd be -nabbed by the bailiffs, sure as he's second mate o' the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>. Goin' to sea's bad enough, but the -</span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span> and holdin' on the slack here's worse, eh, -mateys?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, you're right there, Bulger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why don't you like going to sea?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why? You're a landlubber, sir--meanin' no offence--or -you wouldn't ax sich a foolish question. At sea 'tis -all rope's end and salt pork, with Irish horse for a tit-bit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Irish horse?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay. That's our name for it. 'Cos why? Explain -to the gen'leman, mateys."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a laugh the men began to chant--</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Salt horse, salt horse, what brought you here?</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>You've carried turf for many a year.</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>From Dublin quay to Ballyack</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>You've carried turf upon your back.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"That's the why and wherefore of it," added Bulger. -"Cooks call it salt beef, same as French mounseers don't -like the sound of taters an' calls 'em pummy detair; but -we calls it Irish horse, which we know the flavour. -Accordingly, notwithstandin' an' for that reason, if you -axes the advice of an old salt, never you go to sea, -matey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's unfortunate," said Desmond with a smile, -"because I expect to sail next Wednesday morning, -high tide at five o'clock."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Binks and barnacles! Be you agoin' to sail with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Billy come up! You've got business out East then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet, but I hope to have. I'm going out as supercargo."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh! As supercargo!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger winked at his companions, and a hoarse titter -went the round of the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," continued Bulger, "the supercargo do have -a better time of it than us poor chaps. And what do -Cap'n Barker say to you as supercargo, which you are -very young, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know Captain Barker."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oho! But I thought as how you brought a message -from the captain?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but it came through Mr. Diggle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! Mr. Diggle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A friend of mine--a friend of the captain. He has -arranged everything."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I believe you, matey. He's arranged everything. -Supercargo! Well, to be sure! Never a supercargo as -I ever knowed but wanted a man to look arter him, fetch -and carry for him, so to say. How would I do, if I -might make so bold?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thanks," said Desmond, smiling as he surveyed the -man's huge form. "But I think Captain Barker might -object to that. You'd be of more use on deck, in spite -of----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused, but his glance at the iron hook had not -escaped Bulger's observant eye.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Spite of the curlin' tongs, you'd say. Bless you, spit -'t out, I en't tender in my feelin's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Besides," added Desmond, "I shall probably make -use of the boy who has been attending on me at the </span><em class="italics">Goat -and Compasses</em><span>--a clever little black boy of Mr. Diggle's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Black boys be hanged! I never knowed a Sambo as -was any use on board ship. They howls when they're -sick, and they're allers sick, and never larns to tell a -marlin-spike from a belayin' pin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Scipio isn't one of that sort. He's never sick, -Mr. Diggle says; they've been several voyages together, -and Scipio knows a ship from stem to stern."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scipio, which his name is? Oncommon name, that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a new tone in Bulger's voice, and he gave -Desmond a keen and, as it seemed, a troubled look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, it is strange," replied the boy, vaguely aware of -the change of manner. "But Mr. Diggle has ways of his -own."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This Mr. Diggle, now; I may be wrong, but I should -say--yes, he's short, with bow legs and a wart on his -cheek?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, no; you must be thinking of some one else. He -is tall, rather a well-looking man; he hasn't a wart, but -there is a scar on his brow, something like yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! I know they sort; a fightin' sort o' feller, with a -voice like--which I say, like a nine-pounder?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, not exactly; he speaks rather quietly; he is -well educated, too, to judge by the Latin he quotes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure now, a scholard. Myself, I never had no book -larnin' to speak of; never got no further than pothooks -an' hangers!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laughed as he lifted his hook. But he seemed to be -disinclined for further conversation. He buried his face in -his tankard, and when he had taken a long pull set the -vessel on the table and stared at it with a preoccupied air. -He seemed to have forgotten the presence of Desmond. -The other men were talking among themselves, and Desmond, -having by this time finished his mug of beer, rose to -go on his way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, Mr. Bulger," he said; "we shall meet again -next Wednesday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, sir," returned the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He looked long after the boy as he walked away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Supercargo!" he muttered. "Diggle! I may be -wrong, but----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had come through Southwark and across -Clapham and Wimbledon Common, thus approaching the -</span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span> from the direction of Kingston. -Accustomed as he was to long tramps, he felt no fatigue, and -with a boy's natural curiosity he decided to return to the -city by a different route, following the river bank. He -had not walked far before he came to the ferry at Twickenham. -The view on the other side of the river attracted -him: meadows dotted with cows and sheep, a verdant hill -with pleasant villas here and there; and seeing the -ferryman resting on his oars, he accosted him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can I get to London if I cross here?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure you can, sir. Up the hill past Mr. Walpole his -house; then you comes to Isleworth and Brentford, and a -straight road through Hammersmith village--a fine walk, -sir, and only a penny for the ferryman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond paid his penny and crossed. He sauntered -along up Strawberry Hill, taking a good look at the snug -little house upon which Mr. Horace Walpole was spending -much money and pains. Wandering on, and preferring -by-lanes to the high road, he lost his bearings, and at -length, fearing that he was going in the wrong direction, -he stopped at a wayside cottage to inquire the way. He -was further out than he knew. The woman who came to -the door in answer to his knock said that, having come so -far, he had better proceed in the same direction until he -reached Hounslow, and then strike into the London road -and keep to it. Desmond was nothing loth. He had -heard of Hounslow and those notorious "Diana's foresters" -Plunket and James Maclean--highwaymen who a few years -before had been the terror of night travellers across the -lonely Heath. There was a fascination about the scene -of their exploits. So he trudged on, feeling now a little -tired, and hoping to get a lift in some farmer's cart that -might be going towards London.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>More than once as he walked his thoughts recurred to -the scene at the </span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span>. They were a rough, -villainous-looking set, these members of the crew of the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>! Of course, as supercargo he would not come -into close contact with them; and Mr. Diggle had warned -him that he would find seafaring men somewhat different -from the country folk among whom all his life hitherto -had been passed. Diggle's frankness had pleased him. -They had left the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span> early on the morning after -that strange incident at the Squire's. Desmond had told -his friend what had happened, and Diggle, apparently -surprised to learn of Grinsell's villainy, had declared that the -sooner they were out of his company the better. They had -come by easy stages to London, and were now lodging at -a small inn near the Tower: not a very savoury neighbourhood, -Diggle admitted, but convenient. Diggle had soon -obtained for Desmond a berth on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> -bound for the East Indies, and from what he let drop the -boy understood that he was to sail as supercargo. He -had not yet seen the vessel; she was painting, and would -shortly be coming up to the Pool. Nor had he seen -Captain Barker, who was very much occupied, said Diggle, -and had a great deal of trouble in keeping his crew out -of the clutches of the pressgang. Some of the best of -them had been sent to the </span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span> in charge -of the chief and second mates. It was at Diggle's -suggestion that he had been deputed to convey the captain's -message to the men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was drawing towards evening when Desmond reached -Hounslow Heath, a wide bare expanse of scrubby land -intersected by a muddy road. A light mist lay over the -ground, and he was thankful that the road to London was -perfectly direct, so that there was no further risk of his -losing his way. The solitude and the dismal appearance -of the country, together with its ill-repute, made him -quicken his pace, though he had no fear of molestation; -having nothing to lose he would be but poor prey for a -highwayman, and he trusted to his cudgel to protect him -from the attentions of any single footpad or tramp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Striding along, in the gathering dusk he came suddenly -upon a curious scene. A heavy travelling carriage was -drawn half across the road, its forewheels perilously near -the ditch. Near by was a lady, standing with arms stiff -and hands clenched, stamping her foot as she addressed, -in no measured terms, two men who were rolling over one -another in a desperate tussle a few yards away on the -heath. As Desmond drew nearer he perceived that a -second and a younger lady stood at the horses' heads, -grasping the bridles firmly with both hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His footsteps were unheard on the heavy road, and the -elder lady's back being towards him he came up to her -unawares. She started with a little cry when she saw -a stranger move towards her out of the gloom. But -perceiving at a second glance that he was only a boy, with -nothing villainous about his appearance, she turned to him -impulsively and, taking him by the sleeve, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There! You see them! The wretches! They are -drunk and pay no heed to me! Can you part them? I -do not wish to be benighted on this heath. The wretch -uppermost is the coachman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I might part them, perhaps," said Desmond dubiously. -"Of course I will try, ma'am."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure I wouldn't trust 'em, mamma," called the younger -lady from the horses' heads. "The man is too drunk to -drive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I fear 'tis so. 'Tis not our own man, sir. As we -returned to-day from a visit to Taplow our coachman was -trampled by a horse at Slough, and my husband stayed -with him--an old and trusty servant--till he could consult -a surgeon. We found a substitute at the inn to drive us -home. But the wretch brought a bottle; he drank with -the footman all along the road; and now, as you see, they -are at each other's throats in their drunken fury. Sure we -shall never get home in time for the rout we are bid to."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I drive you to London, ma'am?" said Desmond. -"'Twere best to leave the men to settle their differences."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But can you drive?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes," replied Desmond with a smile. "I am used -to horses."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I beg you to oblige us. Yes, let the wretches -fight themselves sober. Phyllis, this gentleman will drive -us; come."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl--a fair, rosy-cheeked, merry-eyed damsel of -fifteen or thereabouts--left the horses' heads and entered -the carriage with her mother. Desmond made a rapid -examination of the harness to see that all was right; then -he mounted the box and drove off. The noise of the -rumbling wheels penetrated the besotted intelligence of -the struggling men; they scrambled to their feet, looked -wildly about them, and set off in pursuit. But they had -no command of their limbs; they staggered clumsily this -way and that, and finally found their level in the slimy -ditch that flanked the road.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond whipped up the horses in the highest spirits. -He had hoped for a hit in a farmer's cart; fortune had -favoured him in giving him four roadsters to drive himself. -And no boy, certainly not one of his romantic impulses, -but would feel elated at the idea of helping ladies in -distress, and on a spot known far and wide as the scene of -perilous adventure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The carriage was heavy; the road, though level, was -thick with autumn mud; and the horses made no great -speed. Desmond, indeed, durst not urge them too much, -for the mist was thickening, making the air even darker -than the hour warranted; and as the roadway had neither -hedge nor wall to define it, but was bounded on each side -by a ditch, it behoved him to go warily. He had just -come to a particularly heavy part of the road where the -horses were compelled to walk, when he heard the thud -of hoofs some distance behind him. The sound made him -vaguely uneasy. It ceased for a moment or two; then he -heard it again, and realized that a horse was coming at -full gallop. Instinctively he whipped up the horses. The -ladies had also heard the sound; and, putting her head -out of the window, the elder implored him to drive faster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Could the two besotted knaves have put the horseman -on his track, he wondered. They must believe that the -carriage had been run away with, and in their tipsy rage -they would seize any means of overtaking him that offered. -The horseman might be an inoffensive traveller; on the -other hand, he might not. It was best to leave nothing -to chance. With a cheery word, to give the ladies -confidence, he lashed at the horses and forced the -carriage on at a pace that put its clumsy springs to a severe -test.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately the road was straight, and the horses -instinctively kept to the middle of the track. But fast -as they were now going, Desmond felt that if the -horseman was indeed pursuing he would soon be overtaken. -He must be prepared for the worst. Gripping the reins -hard with his left hand, he dropped the whip for a moment -and felt in the box below the seat in the hope of finding a -pistol; but it was empty. He whistled under his breath -at the discovery: if the pursuer was a "gentleman of the -road" his predicament was indeed awkward. The carriage -was rumbling and rattling so noisily that he had long since -lost the sound of the horse's hoofs behind. He could not -pause to learn if the pursuit had ceased; his only course -was to drive on. Surely he would soon reach the edge of -the heath; there would be houses; every few yards must -bring him nearer to the possibility of obtaining help. -Thus thinking, he clenched his teeth and lashed the -reeking flanks of the horses, which plunged along now at a -mad gallop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly, above the noise of their hoofs and the rattling -of the coach he heard an angry shout. A scream came -from the ladies. Heeding neither, Desmond quickly -reversed his whip, holding it half-way down the long -handle, with the heavy iron-tipped stock outward. The -horseman came galloping up on the off side, shouted to -Desmond to stop, and without waiting drew level with the -box and fired point-blank. But the rapid movement of his -horse and the swaying of the carriage forbade him to take -careful aim. Desmond felt the wind of the bullet as it -whizzed past him. Next moment he leaned slightly -sideways, and, never loosening his hold on the reins with his -left hand, he brought the weighty butt of his whip with a -rapid cut, half sideways, half downwards, upon the -horseman's head. The man with a cry swerved in the saddle; -almost before Desmond could recover his balance he was -amazed to see the horse dash suddenly to the right, spring -across the ditch, and gallop at full speed across the -heath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he had no time at the moment to speculate on this -very easy victory. The horses, alarmed by the pistol shot, -were plunging madly, dragging the vehicle perilously near -to the ditch on the left hand. Then Desmond's familiarity -with animals, gained at so much cost to himself on his -brother's farm, bore good fruit. He spoke to the horses -soothingly, managed them with infinite tact, and coaxed -them into submission. Then he let them have their heads, -and they galloped on at speed, pausing only when they -reached the turnpike going into Brentford. They were -then in a bath of foam, their flanks heaving like to burst. -Learning from the turnpike-man that he could obtain a -change of horses at the </span><em class="italics">Bull</em><span> inn, Desmond drove there, -and was soon upon his way again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the change was being made, he obtained from -the lady the address in Soho Square where she was -staying. The new horses were fresh; the carriage rattled -through Gunnersbury, past the turnpike at Hammersmith -and through Kensington, and soon after nine o'clock -Desmond had the satisfaction of pulling up at the door -of Sheriff Soames' mansion in Soho Square.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The door was already open, the rattle of wheels having -brought lacqueys with lighted torches to welcome the -belated travellers. Torches flamed in the cressets on both -sides of the entrance. The hall was filled with servants -and members of the household, and in the bustle that -ensued when the ladies in their brocades and hoops had -entered the house, Desmond saw an opportunity of slipping -away. He felt that it was perhaps a little ungracious to -go without a word with the ladies; but he was tired; he -was unaccustomed to town society; and the service he -had been able to render seemed to him so slight that he -was modestly eager to efface himself. Leaving the -carriage in the hands of one of the lacqueys, with a few -words of explanation, he hastened on towards Holborn -and the city.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-seventh"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE SEVENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Colonel Clive suffers a defeat -hitherto unrecorded; and our hero finds food -for reflection.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was four o'clock, and Tuesday afternoon--the day -before the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> was to sail from the Pool. -Desmond was kicking his heels in his inn, longing for the -morrow. Even now he had not seen the vessel on which -he was to set forth in quest of his fortune. She lay in the -Pool, but Diggle had found innumerable reasons why -Desmond should not visit her until he embarked for good -and all. She was loading her cargo; he would be in the -way. Captain Barker was in a bad temper; better not -see him in his tantrums. The pressgangs were active; -they thought nothing of boarding a vessel and seizing on -any active young fellow who looked a likely subject for -His Majesty's navy. Such were the reasons alleged. And -so Desmond had to swallow his impatience and fill in his -time as best he might; reading the newspapers, going -to see Mr. Garrick and Mistress Kitty Clive at Drury Lane, -spending an odd evening at Ranelagh Gardens.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On this Tuesday afternoon he had nothing to do. Diggle -was out; Desmond had read the newspapers and glanced -at the last number of the World; he had written to his -mother--the third letter since his arrival in London; -he could not settle to anything. He resolved to go for -a walk, as far as St. Paul's, perhaps, and take a last look -at the busy streets he was not likely to see again for many -a day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Forth then he issued. The streets were muddy; a mist -was creeping up from the river, promising to thicken into -a London fog, and the link-boys were already preparing -their tow and looking for a rich harvest of coppers ere the -night was old. Desmond picked his way through the -quagmires of John Street, crossed Crutched Friars, and -went up Mark Lane into Fenchurch Street, intending to -go by Leadenhall Street and Cornhill into Cheapside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had just reached the lower end of Billiter Street, the -narrow thoroughfare leading into Leadenhall, when he -saw Diggle's tall figure running amain towards him, with -another man close behind, apparently in hot pursuit. -Diggle caught sight of Desmond at the same moment, -and his eyes gleamed as with relief. He quickened his -pace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold this fellow behind me," he panted as he passed, -and before Desmond could put a question he was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no time for deliberation. Desmond had but -just perceived that the pursuer was in the garb of a -gentleman and had a broad patch of plaster stretched across his -left temple, when the moment for action arrived. Stooping -low, he suddenly caught at the man's knees. Down -he came heavily, mouthing hearty abuse, and man and -boy were on the ground together.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was up first. He now saw that a second -figure was hurrying on from the other end of the street. -He was not sure what Diggle demanded of him; whether -it was sufficient to have tripped up the pursuer, or whether -he must hold him still in play. But by this time the man -was also upon his feet; his hat was off, his silk breeches -and brown coat with lace ruffles were all bemired. Puffing -and blowing, uttering many a round oath such as came freely -to the lips of the Englishman of King George the Second's -time, he shouted to his friend behind to come on, and, -disregarding Desmond, made to continue his pursuit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond could but grapple with him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Let go, villain!" cried the man, striving to free -himself. Desmond clung on; there was a brief struggle, but -he was no match in size or strength for his opponent, -who was thick-set and of considerable girth. He fell -backwards, overborne by the man's weight. His head -struck on the road; dazed by the blow he loosened his -clutch, and lay for a moment in semi-unconsciousness -while the man sprang away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was not so far gone as not to hear a loud shout -behind him and near at hand, followed by the tramp of -feet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Avast there!" The voice was familiar: surely it was -Bulger's. "Fair play! Fourteen stone against seven -en't odds. Show a leg, mateys."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The big sailor with a dozen of his mates stood full in -the path of the irate gentleman, who, seeing himself beset, -drew his rapier and prepared to fight his way through. -A moment later he was joined by his companion, who -had also drawn his rapier. Together the gentlemen stood -facing the sailors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is check, Merriman," said the last comer as the -seamen, flourishing their hangers menacingly, pressed -forward past the prostrate body of Desmond. "The fellow -has escaped you; best withdraw at discretion."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come on," shouted Bulger, waving his hook. "Bill -Bulger en't the man to sheer off from a couple of -landlubbers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As with his mates in line he steadily advanced, the two -gentlemen, their lips set, their eyes fixed on the assailants, -their rapiers pointed, backed slowly up the street. The -noise had brought clerks and merchants to the doors; -some one sprang a rattle; there were cries for the -watchmen; but no one actively interfered. Meanwhile Desmond -had regained his senses, and, still feeling somewhat dizzy, -had sat down upon a doorstep, wondering not a little at -the pursuit and flight of Diggle and the opportune arrival -of the sailors. Everything had happened very rapidly; -scarcely two minutes had elapsed since the first onset.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was still resting when there was a sudden change in -the quality of the shouts up street. Hitherto they had -been boisterous rallying cries, now they were -unmistakably hearty British cheers, expressing nothing but -approval and admiration. And they came not merely from -the throats of the sailors, but from the now considerable -crowd that filled the street. A few moments afterwards -he saw the throng part, and through it Bulger marching -at the head of his mates, singing lustily. They came -opposite to the step on which he sat, and Bulger caught -sight of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Blest if it en't our supercargo!" he cried, stopping -short.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A shout of laughter broke from the sailors. One of -them struck up a song.</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Oho! we says good-bye,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>But never pipes our eye,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>Tho' we leaves Poll, Sue, and Kitty all behind us;</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>And if we drops our bones</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Down along o' Davy Jones,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>Why, they'll come and ax the mermaids for to find us.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"And what took ye, Mister Supercargo, to try a fall -with the fourteen stoner?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, I was helping a friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, an' a friend was helpin' him, an' here's a dozen -of us a-helpin' of one supercargo."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Bulger. But what -were you cheering for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Cheerin'! Why, you wouldn't guess. 'Twas General -Clive, matey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"General Clive!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, General Clive, him what chased the mounseers -out o' Fort St. George with a marlin-spike. I didn't -know him at fust, comin' up behind t'other chap; but -when I seed that purple coat with the gold lace and the -face of him above it I knowed him. In course there was -no more fight for us then; 'twas hip-hip hurray and up -with our hangers. Clive, he smiled and touched his hat. -'Bulger,' says he, 'you en't much fatter----'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does he know you, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Know me! In course he does. Wasn't I bo'sun's -mate on board the Indiaman as took him east twelve year -ago or more? That was afore I got this here button-hook -o' mine. Ay, I remember him well, a-trampin' up an' -down deck with his hands in his pockets an' his mouth set -tight an' his chin on his stock, never speakin' to a soul, in -the doldrums if ever a lad was. Why, we all thought -there was no more spirit in him than in the old wooden -figure-head--leastways, all but me. 'I may be wrong,' -says I to old Tinsley the bo'sun, 'I may be wrong,' says I, -'but I be main sure that young sad down-in-the-mouth -have got a blazin' fire somewhere in his innards.' Ay, -and time showed it. There was a lot of cadets aboard -as poked fun at the quiet chap an' talked him over, -awinkin' their eyes. From talkin' it got to doin'. One -day, goin' to his bunk, he found it all topsy-versy, hair -powder on his pillow, dubbin in his shavin' cup, salt pork -wropt up in his dressin'-gown. Well, I seed him as he -comed on deck, an' his face were a sight to remember, -pale as death, but his eyes a-blazin' like live coals in the -galley fire. Up he steps to the cadet as was ringleader; -how he knowed it I can't tell you, but he was sure of it, -same as I always am. 'Sir,' says he, quiet as a lamb, 'I -want a word with you.' 'Dear me!' says the cadet, 'have -Mr. Clive found his voice at last?' 'Yes, sir,' says Clive, -'behave, an' something else.' Cook happened to be -passin' with a tray; a lady what was squeamish had been -havin' her vittles on deck. Mr. Clive cotched up a basin -o' pea soup what was too greasy for madam, and in a -twink he sets it upside down on the cadet's head. Ay, -'twas a pretty pictur', the greasy yellow stuff runnin' down -over his powdered hair an' lace collar an' fine blue coat. -My eye! there was a rare old shindy, the cadet cursin' and -splutterin', the others laughin' fit to bust 'emselves. The -cadet out with his fists, but there, 'twas no manner o' use. -Mr. Clive bowled him over like a ninepin till he lay along -deck all pea-soup an' gore. There was no more baitin' o' -Mr. Clive that voyage. 'Bo'sun,' says I, 'what did I tell -you? I may be wrong, but that young Mr. Bob Clive 'll -be a handful for the factors in Fort St. George.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While this narrative had been in progress, Desmond -was walking with Bulger and his mates back towards the -river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How was it you happened to be hereabouts so early?" -asked Desmond. "I didn't expect to see you till -to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger winked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You wouldn't ax if you wasn't a landlubber, meanin' -no offence," he said. "'Tis last night ashore. We -sailormen has had enough o' </span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rests</em><span> an' such-like. -To tell you the truth, we gave Mr. Toley the slip, and now -we be goin' to have a night at the </span><em class="italics">Crown an' Anchor</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about the pressgang?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We takes our chance. They won't press me, sartin -sure, 'cos o' my tenter-hook here, and I'll keep my -weather-eye open, trust me for that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here they parted company. Desmond watched the jolly -crew as they turned into the Minories, and heard their -rollicking chorus:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Ho! when the cargo's shipped,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>An' the anchor's neatly tripped,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>An' the gals are weepin' bucketfuls o' sorrer,</span></div> -<div class="inner line-block"> -<div class="line"><span>Why, there's the decks to swab,</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>An' we en't agoin' to sob,</span></div> -</div> -<div class="line"><span>S'pose the sharks do make a meal of us to-morrer.</span></div> -<div class="line"> </div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At the </span><em class="italics">Goat and Compasses</em><span> Diggle was awaiting him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ha! my friend, you did it as prettily as a man could -wish. 'Solitudo aliquid adjuvat,' as Tully somewhere -hath it, not foreseeing my case, when solitude would have -been my undoing. I thank thee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was the fellow attacking you?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That to be sure was his intention. I was in truth in -the very article of peril; I was blown; my breath was near -gone, when at the critical moment up comes a gallant -youth--'subvenisti homini jam perdito'--and with -dexterous hand stays the enemy in his course."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what was it all about? Do you know the man?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ods my life! 'twas a complete stranger, a man, I -should guess, of hasty passions and tetchy temper. By -the merest accident, at a somewhat crowded part, I -unluckily elbowed the man into the kennel, and though I -apologized in the handsomest way he must take offence -and seek to cut off my life, to extinguish me 'in primo -aevo,' as Naso would say. But Atropos was forestalled, -my thread of life still falls uncut from Clotho's shuttle; -still, still, my boy, I bear on the torch of life -unextinguished."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt that all this fine phrasing, this copious -draught from classical sources, was intended to quench -the ardour of his curiosity. Diggle's explanation was -very lame; the fury depicted on the pursuer's face could -scarcely be due to a mere accidental jostling in the street. -And Diggle was certainly not the man to take to his heels -on slight occasion. But after all Diggle's quarrels were -his own concern. That his past life included secrets -Desmond had long suspected, but he was not the first man of -birth and education who had fallen into misfortune, and at -all events he had always treated Desmond with kindness. -So the boy put the matter from his thoughts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The incident, however, left a sting of vexation behind it. -In agreeing to accompany Diggle to the East, Desmond -had harboured a vague hope of falling in with Clive and -taking service, in however humble a capacity, with him. -It vexed him sorely to think that Clive, whose memory for -faces, as his recognition of Bulger after twelve years had -shown, was very good, might recognize him, should they -meet, as the boy who had played a part in what was -almost a street brawl. Still, it could not be helped. -Desmond comforted himself with the hope that Clive had -taken no particular note of him, and, if they should ever -encounter, would probably meet him as a stranger.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-eighth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE EIGHTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which several weeks are supposed to -elapse; and our hero is discovered in the -Doldrums.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> lay becalmed in the Doldrums. There -was not wind enough to puff out a candle flame. The sails -hung limp and idle from the masts, yet the vessel rolled as -in a storm, heaving on a tremendous swell so violently that -it would seem her masts must be shaken out of her. The -air was sweltering, the sky the colour of burnished copper, -out of which the sun beat remorselessly in almost -perpendicular beams. Pitch ran from every seam of the decks, -great blisters like bubbles rose upon the woodwork; the -decks were no sooner swabbed than--presto!--it was as -though they had not known the touch of water for an age.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For two weeks she had lain thus. Sometimes the hot -day would be succeeded by a night of terrible storm, -thunder crashing around, the whole vault above lacerated -by lightning, and rain pouring, as it were out of the -fissures, in sheets. But in a day all traces of the storm -would disappear, and if, meanwhile, a sudden breath of -wind had carried the vessel a few knots on her southward -course, the hopes thus raised would prove illusory, -and once more she would lie on a sea of molten lead, or, -still worse, would be rocked on a long swell that had all -the discomforts of a gale without its compensating excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The tempers of officers and crew had gone from bad to -worse. The officers snapped and snarled at one another, -and treated the men with even more than the customary -brutality of the merchant marine of those days. The -crew, lounging about half-naked on the decks, seeking -what shelter they could get from the pitiless sun, with -little to do and no spirit to do anything, quarrelled among -themselves, growling at the unnecessary tasks set them -merely to keep them from flying at each others' throats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> was a fine three-masted vessel of nearly -400 tons, large for those days, though the new East -Indiamen approached 500 tons. When her keel was laid for -the Honourable East India Company some twenty years -earlier, she had been looked on as one of the finest -merchant vessels afloat; but the buffeting of wind and wave -in a dozen voyages to the eastern seas, and the more -insidious and equally destructive attacks of worms and -dry-rot, had told upon her timbers. She had been sold -off and purchased by Captain Barker, who was one of the -class known as "interlopers," men who made trading -voyages to the East Indies on their own account, -running the risk of their vessels being seized and themselves -penalized for infringing the Company's monopoly. She -was now filled with a miscellaneous cargo: wine in chests, -beer and cider in bottles, hats, worsted stockings, wigs, -small shot, lead, iron, knives, glass, hubble-bubbles, -cochineal, sword-blades, toys, coarse cloth, woollen -goods--anything that would find a market among the European -merchants, the native princes, or the trading classes of -India. There was also a large consignment of muskets -and ammunition. When Desmond asked the second mate -where they were going, the reply was that if he asked no -questions he would be told no lies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On this sultry afternoon a group of seamen, clad in -nothing but shirt and breeches, were lolling, lying, -crouching on the deck forward, circled around Bulger. Seated -on an upturned tub, he was busily engaged in baiting a -hook. Tired of the "Irish horse" and salt pork that -formed the staple of the sailors' food, he was taking -advantage of the calm to fish for bonitos, a large fish -over two feet long, the deadly enemy of the beautiful -flying-fish that every now and then fell panting upon -the deck in their mad flight from marine foes. The bait -was made to resemble the flying-fish itself, the hook being -hidden by white rag-stuffing, with feathers pricked-in to -counterfeit spiked fins.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the big seaman deftly worked with iron hook and -right hand, he spun yarns for the delectation of his -mates. They chewed tobacco, listened, laughed, sneered, -as their temper inclined them. Only one of the group -gave him rapt and undivided attention--a slim youth, -with hollow sunburnt cheeks, long bleached hair, and -large gleaming eyes. His neck and arms were bare, -and the colour of boiled lobsters; but, unlike the rest, he -had no tattoo-marks pricked into his skin. His breeches -were tatters, his striped shirt was covered with -parti-coloured darns.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, as I was saying," said Bulger, "'twas in these -latitudes, on my last voyage but three. I was in a -Bristol ship a-carryin' of slaves from Guinea to the -plantations. Storms!--I never seed such storms nowhere; -and, contrairywise, calms enough to make a Quaker sick. -In course the water was short, an' scurvy come aboard, -an' 'twas a hammock an' a round shot for one or other of -us every livin' day. As reg'lar as the mornin' watch the -sharks came for their breakfast; we could see 'em comin' -from all p'ints o' the compass; an' sure as seven bells -struck there they was, ten deep, with jaws wide open, like -Parmiter's there when there's a go of grog to be sarved -out. We was all like the livin' skellington at Bartlemy -Fair, and our teeth droppin' out that fast, they pattered -like hailstones on the deck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you stick 'em in again?" interrupted Parmiter, -anxious to get even with Bulger for the allusion -to his gaping jaw. He was a thick-set, ugly fellow, -his face seamed with scars, his mouth twisted, his ears -dragged at the lobes by heavy brass rings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With glue made out of albicores we caught, to be -sure. Well, as I was saying, we was so weak there -wasn't a man aboard could reach the maintop, an' the -man at the wheel had two men to hold him up. Things -was so, thus, an' in such case, when, about eight bells -one arternoon, the look-out at the mast-head----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thought you couldn't climb? How'd he get there?" -said the same sceptic.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give me time, Parmiter, and you'll know all about the -hows an' whys, notwithstanding and sobeits. He'd been -there for a week, for why? 'cos he couldn't get down. -We passed him up a quarter-pint o' water and a biscuit -or two every day by a halyard. Well, as I was sayin', -all at once the look-out calls down, 'Land ho!'--leastways -he croaked it, 'cos what with weakness and little water -our throats was as dry as last year's biscuit. 'Where -away?' croaks first mate, which I remember his name -was Tonking. And there, sure enough, we seed a small -island, which it might be a quarter-mile long. Now, -mind you, we hadn't made a knot for three weeks. How -did that island come there so sudden like? In course, -it must ha' come up from the bottom o' the sea. And -as we was a-lookin' at it we seed it grow, mateys--long -spits o' land shootin' out this side, that side, and t'other -side--and the whole concarn begins to move towards us, -comin' on, hand over hand, slow, dead slow, but sure -and steady. Our jaws were just a-droppin' arter our teeth -when fust mate busts out in a laugh; by thunder, I -remember that there laugh to-day! 'twas like--well, I -don't know what 'twas like, if not the scrapin' of a -handsaw; an' says he, 'By Neptune, 'tis a darned monstrous -squid!' And, sure enough, that was what it was, a squid -as big round as the Isle o' Wight, with arms that ud -reach from Wapping Stairs to Bugsby Marshes, and just -that curly shape. An' what was more, 'twas steerin' -straight for us. Ay, mateys, 'twas a horrible moment!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The seamen, even Parmiter the scoffer, were listening -open-mouthed when a hoarse voice broke the spell, cutting -short Bulger's story and dispersing the group.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here you, Burke you, up aloft and pay the topmast -with grease. I'll have no lazy lubbers aboard my ship, -I tell you. I've got no use for nobody too good for his -berth. No Jimmy Duffs for me! Show a leg, or, by -heavens, I'll show you a rope's end and make my -mark--mind that, my lad!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Barker turned to the man at his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twas an ill turn you did me and the ship's company, -Mr. Diggle, bringing this useless lubber aboard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It does appear so, captain," said Diggle sorrowfully. -"But 'tis his first voyage, sir: discipline--a little discipline!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Desmond, without a word, had moved away -to obey orders. He had long since found the uselessness -of protest. Diggle had taken him on board the </span><em class="italics">Good -Intent</em><span> an hour before sailing. He left him to himself -until the vessel was well out in the mouth of the Thames, -and then came with a rueful countenance and explained -that, after all his endeavours, the owners had absolutely -refused to accept so youthful a fellow as supercargo. -Desmond felt his cheeks go pale.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What am I to be, then?" he asked quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my dear boy, Captain Barker is rather short of -apprentices, and he has no objection to taking you in place -of one if you will make yourself useful. He is a first-rate -seaman. You will imbibe a vast deal of useful knowledge -and gain a free passage, and when we reach the Indies I -shall be able, I doubt not, by means of my connexions, -to assist you in the first steps of what, I trust, will prove -a successful career."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then who is supercargo?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Unluckily that greatness has been thrust upon me. -Unluckily, I say; for the office is not one that befits a -former fellow of King's College at Cambridge. Yet there -is an element of good luck in it, too; for, as you know, -my fortunes were at a desperately low ebb, and the -emoluments of this office, while not great, will stand me in -good stead when we reach our destination, and enable me -to set you, my dear boy--to borrow from the -vernacular--on your legs."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have deceived me, then!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, nay, you do bear me hard, young man. To -be disappointed is not the same thing as to be deceived. -True, you are not, as I hoped, supercargo, but the -conditions are not otherwise altered. You wished to go to -India--well, Zephyr's jocund breezes, as Catullus hath -it, will waft you thither: we are flying to the bright cities -of the East. No fragile bark is this, carving a dubious -course through the main, as Seneca, I think, puts it. No, -'tis an excellent vessel, with an excellent captain, who -will steer a certain course, who fears not the African -blast nor the grisly Hyades nor the fury of Notus----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond did not wait the end of Diggle's peroration. -It was too late to repine. The vessel was already -rounding the Foreland, and though he was more than half -convinced that he had been decoyed on board on false -pretences, he could not divine any motive on Diggle's -part, and hoped that his voyage would be not much less -pleasant than he had anticipated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But even before the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> made the Channel he -was woefully undeceived. His first interview with the -captain opened his eyes. Captain Barker was a small, -thin, sandy man, with a large upper lip that met the lower -in a straight line, a lean nose, and eyes perpetually -bloodshot. His manner was that of a bully of the most brutal -kind. He browbeat his officers, cuffed and kicked his -men, in his best days a martinet, in his worst a madman. -The only good point about him was that he never used -the cat, which, as Bulger said, was a mercy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Humph!" he said when Desmond was presented to -him. "You're him, are you? Well, let me tell you this, -my lad: the ship's boy on board this 'ere ship have got to -do what he's bid, and no mistake about it. If he don't, -I'll make him. Now you go for'ard into the galley and -scrape the slush off the cook's pans; quick's the word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From that day Desmond led a dog's life. He found -that as ship's boy he was at the beck and call of the -whole company. The officers, with the exception of -Mr. Toley, the melancholy first mate, took their cue from the -captain; and Mr. Toley, as a matter of policy, never sided -with him openly. The men resented his superior manners -and the fact that he was socially above them. The -majority of the seamen were even more ruffianly than the -specimens he had seen at the </span><em class="italics">Waterman's Rest</em><span>--the scum -of Wapping and Rotherhithe. His only real friend on -board was Bulger, who helped him to master the many -details of a sailor's work, and often protected him against -the ill-treatment of his mates; and, in spite of his one arm, -Bulger was a power to be reckoned with.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the best of times the life of a sailor was hard, and -Desmond found it at first almost intolerable. Irregular -sleep on an uncomfortable hammock, wedged in with the -other members of the crew, bad food, and over-exertion -told upon his frame. From the moment when all hands -were piped to lash hammocks to the moment when the -signal was given for turning in, it was one long round -of thankless drudgery. But he proved himself to be very -quick and nimble. Before long, no one could lash his -hammock with the seven turns in a shorter time than he. -After learning the work on the mainsails and try-sails he -was sent to practise the more acrobatic duties in the tops, -and when two months had passed, no one excelled him -in quickness aloft. If his work had been confined to the -ordinary seaman's duties he would have been fairly content, -for there is always a certain pleasure in accomplishment, -and the consciousness of growing skill and power -was some compensation for the hardships he had to -undergo. But he had to do dirty work for the cook, clean -out the styes of the captain's pigs, swab the lower deck, -sometimes descend on errands for one or other to the -nauseous hold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps the badness of the food was the worst evil to -a boy accustomed to plain but good country fare. The -burgoo or oatmeal gruel served at breakfast made him -sick; he knew how it had been made in the cook's dirty -pans. The "Irish horse" and salt pork for dinner soon -became distasteful; it was not in the best condition when -brought aboard, and before long it became putrid. The -strong cheese for supper was even more horrible. He -lived for the most part on the tough sea-biscuit of mixed -wheat and pea-flour, and on the occasional duffs of flour -boiled with fat, which did duty as pudding. For drink -he had nothing but small beer; the water in the wooden -casks was full of green, grassy, slimy things. But the -fresh sea-air seemed to be a food itself; and though -Desmond became lean and hollow-cheeked, his muscles -developed and hardened. Little deserving Captain Barker's -ill-tempered abuse, he became handy in many ways on -board, and proved to be the possessor of a remarkably -keen pair of eyes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When, in obedience to the captain's orders, he was -greasing the mast, his attention was caught by three or -four specks on the horizon.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sail ho!" he called to the officer of the watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where away?" was the reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On the larboard quarter, sir; three or four sail, I -think."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The officer at once mounted the shrouds and took a -long look at the specks Desmond pointed out, while the -crew below crowded to the bulwarks and eagerly strained -their eyes in the same direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you make of 'em, Mr. Sunman?" asked the -captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three or four sail, sir, sure enough. They are hull -down; there's not a doubt but they're bringing the wind -with 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hurray!" shouted the men, overjoyed at the prospect -of moving at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a couple of hours the strangers had become distinctly -visible, and the first faint puffs of the approaching breeze -caused the sails to flap lazily against the yards. Then -the canvas filled out, and at last, after a fortnight's delay, -the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> began to slip through the water at -three or four knots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The wind freshened during the night, and next morning -the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> was bowling along under single-reefed -topsails. The ships sighted the night before had -disappeared, to the evident relief of Captain Barker. Whether -they were Company's vessels or privateers he had no wish -to come to close quarters with them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After breakfast, when the watch on deck were busy -about the rigging or the guns, or the hundred and one -details of a sailor's work, the rest of the crew had the -interval till dinner pretty much to themselves. Some -slept, some reeled out yarns to their messmates, others -mended their clothes. It happened one day that Desmond, -sitting in the forecastle among the men of his mess, -was occupied in darning a pair of breeches for Parmiter. -Darning was the one thing he could not do satisfactorily; -and one of the men, quizzically observing his well-meant -but really ludicrous attempts, at last caught up the garment -and held it aloft, calling his mates' attention to it with -a shout of laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Parmiter chanced to be coming along at the moment. -Hearing the laugh, and seeing the pitiable object of it, -he flew into a rage, sprang at Desmond, and knocked -him down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, you clumsy young lubber you," -he cried, "by treating my smalls like that? I'll brain -you, sure as my name's Parmiter!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had already suffered not a little at Parmiter's -hands. His endurance was at an end. Springing up -with flaming cheeks he leapt towards the bully, and putting -in practice the methods he had learnt in many a -hard-fought mill at Mr. Burslem's school, he began to punish -the offender. His muscles were in good condition; -Parmiter was too much addicted to grog to make a steady -pugilist; and though he was naturally much the stronger -man, he was totally unable to cope with his agile antagonist. -A few rounds settled the matter; Parmiter had to confess -that he had had enough, and Desmond, flinging his breeches -to him, sat down tingling among his mates, who greeted -the close of the fight with spontaneous and unrestrained -applause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day Parmiter was in the foretop splicing the -forestay. Desmond was walking along the deck when -suddenly he felt his arm clutched from behind, and he was -pulled aside so violently by Bulger's hook that he stumbled -and fell at full length. At the same moment something -struck the deck with a heavy thud.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder! 'twas a narrow shave," said Bulger. -"See that, matey?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Looking in the direction Bulger pointed, he saw that -the foretopsail sheet block had fallen on deck, within -an inch of where he would have been but for the -intervention of Bulger's hook. Glancing aloft, he saw -Parmiter grinning down at him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hitch that block to a halyard, youngster," said the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was on the point of refusing; the man, he -thought, might at least have apologised: but reflecting -that a refusal would entail a complaint to the captain, -and subsequent punishment, he bit his lips, fastened the -block, and went on his way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis my belief 'twas no accident," said Bulger -afterwards. "I may be wrong, but Parmiter bears a grudge -against you. And he and that there Mr. Diggle is too -thick by half. I never could make out why Diggle diddled -you about that supercargo business; he don't mean you -no kindness, you may be sure; and when you see two -villains like him and Parmiter puttin' their heads together, -look out for squalls, that's what I say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was inclined to laugh; the idea seemed preposterous.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why are you so suspicious of Mr. Diggle?" he said. -"He has not kept his promise, that's true, and I am sorry -enough I ever listened to him. But that doesn't prove him -to be an out-and-out villain. I've noticed that you keep -out of his way. Do you know anything of him? Speak -out plainly, man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I'll tell you what I knows about him." He -settled himself against the mast, gave a final polish to his -hook with holy-stone, and, using the hook every now and -then to punctuate his narrative, began: "Let me see, -'twas a matter o' three years ago. I was bosun on the -</span><em class="italics">Swallow</em><span>, a spanker she was, chartered by the Company, -London to Calcutta. There was none of the doldrums -that trip, dodged 'em fair an' square; a topsail breeze -to the Cape, and then the fust of the monsoon to the -Hugli. We lay maybe a couple of months at Calcutta, -when what should I do but take aboard a full dose of the -cramp, just as the </span><em class="italics">Swallow</em><span> was in a manner of speakin' -on the wing. Not but what it sarved me right, for what -business had I at my time of life to be wastin' shore-leave -by poppin' at little dicky birds in the dirty slimy jheels, as -they call 'em, round about Calcutta! Well, I was put -ashore, as was on'y natural, and 'twas a marvel I pulled -through--for it en't many as take the cramp in Bengal -and live to tell of it. The Company, I'll say that for 'em, -was very kind; I had the best o' nussin' and vittles; but -when I found my legs again there I was, as one might -say, high and dry, for there was no Company's ship ready -to sail. So I got leave to sign on a country ship, bound -for Canton; and we dropped down the Hugli with enough -opium on board to buy up the lord mayor and a baker's -dozen of aldermen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nearly half a mile astern was three small country -ships, such as might creep round the coast to Chittagong, -dodgin' the pirates o' the Sandarbands if they was lucky, -and gettin' their weazands slit if they wasn't. They -drew less water than us, and was generally handier in the -river, which is uncommon full o' shoals and sandbanks; -but for all that I remember they was still maybe half a mile -astern when we dropped anchor--anchors I should say--for -the night, some way below Diamond Harbour. But to -us white men the ways o' these Moors[#] is always a bag o' -mystery, and as seamen they en't anyhow of much account. -Well, it might be about seven bells, and my watch below, -when I was woke by a most tremenjous bangin' and -hullabaloo. We tumbles up mighty sharp, and well we did, -for there was one of these country fellows board and board -with us, and another foulin' our hawser. Their grapnels -came whizzin' aboard; but the first lot couldn't take a -hold nohow, and she dropped down stream. That gave -us a chance to be ready for the other. She got a grip -of us and held on like a shark what grabs you by the legs. -But pistols and pikes had been sarved out, and when they -came bundlin' over into the foc'sle, we bundled 'em back -into the Hugli, and you may be sure they wasn't exactly -seaworthy when they got there. They was a mixed lot; -that we soon found out by their manner o' swearin' as -they slipped by the board, for although there was Moors -among 'em most of 'em was Frenchies or Dutchmen, and -considerin' they wasn't Englishmen they made a good -fight of it. But over they went, until only a few was left; -and we was just about to finish 'em off, when another -country ship dropped alongside, and before we knew where -we was a score of yellin' ruffians was into the waist and -rushin' us in the stern-sheets, as you might say. We had -to fight then, by thunder! we did.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The natives of India were thus called by Englishmen in the -18th century.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"The odds was against us now, and we was catchin' it -from two sides. But our blood was up, and we knew what -to expect if they beat us. 'Twas the Hugli for every man -Jack of us, and no mistake. There was no orders, every -man for himself, with just enough room and no more to -see the mounseer in front of him. Some of us--I was one -of 'em--fixed the flints of the pirates for'ard, while the rest -faced round and kept the others off. Then we went at 'em, -and as they couldn't all get at us at the same time -owing to the deck being narrow, the odds was not so bad -arter all. 'Twas now hand to hand, fist to fist, one for -you and one for me; you found a Frenchman and stuck -to him till you finished him off, or he finished you, as the -case might be, in a manner of speakin'. Well, I found -one lanky chap--he was number four that night, and all -in ten minutes as it were; I jabbed a pike at him, and -missed, for it was hard to keep footin' on the wet deck, -though the wet was not Hugli water; thick as it is, this -was thicker--and he fired a pistol at me by way of thank -you. I saw his figure-head in the flash, and I shan't forget -it either, for he left me this to remember him by, though -I didn't know it at the time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Bulger held up the iron hook that did duty for his -left forearm. Then, glancing cautiously round, he added -in a whisper:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twas Diggle--or I'm a Dutchman. That was my -fust meetin' with him. Of course, I'm in a way helpless -now, being on the ship's books, and he in a manner of -speakin' an officer; but one of these days there'll be a -reckonin', or my name en't Bulger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sailor brought down his fist with a resounding whack -on the scuttle butt, threatening to stave in the top of -the barrel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And how did the fight end?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We drove 'em back bit by bit, and fairly wore 'em -down. They warn't all sailormen, or we couldn't have -done it, for they had the numbers; but an Englishman -on his own ship is worth any two furriners--aye, half -a dozen some do say, though I wouldn't go so far as that -myself--and at the last some of them turned tail an' -bolted back. The ship's boy, what was in the shrouds, -saw 'em on the run and set up a screech: -'Hooray! hooray!' That was all we wanted. We hoorayed too; -and went at 'em in such a slap-bang go-to-glory way that -in a brace of shakes there warn't a Frenchman, a -Dutchman, nor a Moor on board. They cut the grapnels and -floated clear, and next mornin' we saw 'em on their beam -ends on a sandbank a mile down the river. That's how -I fust come acrost Mr. Diggle; I may be wrong, but I says -it again: look out for squalls."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some days the wind held fair, and the ship being -now in the main track of the trades, all promised well for -a quick run to the Cape. But suddenly there was a -change; a squall struck the vessel from the south-west. -Captain Barker, catching sight of Desmond and a seaman -near at hand, shouted:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Furl the top-gallant sail, you two. Now show a leg, -or, by thunder, the masts will go by the board."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Springing up the shrouds on the weather side, Desmond -was quickest aloft. He crawled out on the yard, the wind -threatening every moment to tear him from his dizzy rocking -perch, and began with desperate energy to furl the -straining canvas. It was hard work, and but for the -development of his muscles during the past few months, and a -naturally cool head, the task would have been beyond his -powers. But setting his teeth and exerting his utmost -strength, he accomplished his share of it as quickly as the -able seaman on the lee yard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sail was half furled when all at once the mast -swung through a huge arc; the canvas came with -tremendous force against the cross-trees; and Desmond, -flung violently outwards, found himself swinging in -mid-air, clinging desperately to the leech of the sail. With -a convulsive movement he grasped at a loose gasket above -him, and catching a grip wound it twice or thrice round -his arm. The strain was intense; the gasket was thin and -cut deeply into the flesh; he knew that should it give way -nothing could save him. So he hung, the wind howling -around him, the yards rattling, the boisterous sea below -heaving as if to clutch him and drag him to destruction. -A few seconds passed, every one of which seemed an -eternity. Then through the noise he heard shouts on -deck. The vessel suddenly swung over, and Desmond's -body inclined towards instead of from the mast. Shooting -out his hand he caught at the yard, seized it, and held -on, though it seemed that his arm must be wrenched from -the socket. In a few moments he succeeded in clambering -on to the yard, where he clung, endeavouring to regain -his breath and his senses.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he completed his job, and with a sense of unutterable -relief slid down to the deck. A strange sight met -his eyes. Bulger and Parmiter were lying side by side; -there was blood on the deck; and Captain Barker stood -over them with a martin spike, his eyes blazing, his face -distorted with passion. In consternation Desmond -slipped out of the way, and asked the first man he met for -an explanation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It appeared that Parmiter, who was at the wheel when -the squall struck the ship, had put her in stays before the -sail was furled, with the result that she heeled over and -Desmond narrowly escaped being flung into the sea. -Seeing the boy's plight Bulger had sprung forward and, -knocking Parmiter from the wheel, had put the vessel on -the other tack, thus giving Desmond the one chance of -escape which, fortunately, he had been able to seize. The -captain had been incensed to a blind fury, first with -Parmiter for acting without orders and then with Bulger for -interfering with the man at the wheel. In a paroxysm -of madness he attacked both men with a spike; the ship -was left without a helmsman, and nothing but the -promptitude of the melancholy mate, who had rushed forward and -taken the abandoned wheel himself, had saved the vessel -from the imminent risk of carrying away her masts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Later in the day, when the squall and the captain's rage -had subsided, the incident was talked over by a knot of -seamen in the foc's'le.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may say what you like," said one, "but I hold to -it that Parmiter meant to knock young Burke into the -sea. For why else did he put the ship in stays? He en't -a fool, en't Parmiter."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay," said another, "and arter that there business with -the block, eh? One and one make two; that's twice -the youngster has nigh gone to Davy Jones through -Parmiter, and it en't in reason that sich-like things should -allers happen to the same party."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what's the reason?" asked a third. "What call -has Parmiter to have such a desperate spite against Burke? -He got a lickin', in course, but what's a lickin' to a -Englishman? Rot it all, the youngster en't a bad matey. He've -led a dog's life, that he have, and I've never heard a -grumble, nary one; have you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True," said the first. "And I tell you what it is. I -believe Bulger's in the right of it, and 'tis all along o' -that there Diggle, hang him! He's too perlite by half, with -his smile and his fine lingo and all. And what's he keep -his hand wropt up in that there velvet mitten thing for? -I'd like to know that. There's summat mortal queer -about Diggle, mark my words, and we'll find it out if we -live long enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wasn't it Diggle brought Burke aboard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Course it was; that's what proves it, don't you see? -He stuffs him up as he's to be supercargo; call that number -one. He brings him aboard and makes him ship's boy: -that's number two. He looks us all up and down with -those rat's eyes of his, and thinks we're a pretty ugly lot, -and Parmiter the ugliest; how's that for number three? -Then he makes hisself sweet to Parmiter; I've seed him -more'n once; that's number four. Then there's that -there block: five; and to-day's hanky-panky: six; and it -wants one more to make seven, and that's the perfect -number, I've heard tell, 'cos o' the Seven Champions o' -Christendom."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess you've reasoned that out mighty well," drawled -the melancholy voice of Mr. Toley, who had come up -unseen and heard the last speech. "Well, I'll give you -number seven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thunder and blazes, sir, he en't bin and gone and -done it already!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, he en't. Number seven is, be kind o' tender -with young Burke. Count them words. He's had enough -kicks. That's all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And the melancholy man went away as silently as he -had come.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-ninth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE NINTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the </span><em class="bold italics">Good Intent</em><span class="bold"> makes a running -fight; and Mr. Toley makes a suggestion.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Making good sailing, the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> reached Saldanhas -Bay, where she put in for a few necessary repairs, then -safely rounded the Cape, and after a short stay at Johanna, -one of the Comoro Islands, taking in fresh provisions -there, set sail for the Malabar coast. The wind blew -steadily from the south-west, and she ran merrily -before it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During this part of the voyage Desmond found his -position somewhat improved. His pluck had won the rough -admiration of the men; Captain Barker was not so -constantly chevying him; and Mr. Toley showed a more active -interest in him, teaching him the use of the sextant and -quadrant, how to take the altitude of the sun, and many -other matters important in navigation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was the third week of April, and the monsoon having -begun, Captain Barker expected before long to sight -the Indian coast. One morning, about two bells, the -look-out reported a small vessel on the larboard bow, -labouring heavily. The captain took a long look at it -through his perspective glass, anc made out that it was -a two-masted grab; the mainmast was gone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Odds bobs," he said to Mr. Toley, "'tis strange to -meet a grab so far out at sea. We'll run down to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is a grab?" asked Desmond of Bulger, when the -news had circulated through the ship's company.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, that's a grab, sure enough. I en't a good -hand at pictur' paintin'; we're runnin' square for the -critter, and then you'll see for yourself. This I'll say, -that you don't see 'em anywheres in partickler but off -the Malabar coast."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was soon able to take stock of the vessel. It -was broad in proportion to its length, narrowing from the -middle to the end, and having a projecting prow like the -old-fashioned galleys of which he had seen pictures. The -prow was covered with a deck, level with the main deck of -the vessel, but with a bulkhead between this and the forecastle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"En't she pitchin'!" remarked Bulger, standing by -Desmond's side. "You couldn't expect nothing else of -a craft built that shape. Look at the water pourin' off -her; why, I may be wrong, but I'll lay my best breeches -she's a-founderin'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As usual, Bulger was right. When the grab was -overhauled, the men on board, dark-skinned Marathas with -very scanty clothing, made signs that they were in -distress.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Throw her into the wind," shouted the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Toley at the wheel put the helm down, the -longboat was lowered, and with some difficulty, owing to -the heavy sea, the thirty men on the grab were taken -off. As they came aboard the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, Diggle, who -was leaning over the bulwarks, suddenly straightened -himself, smiled, and moved towards the taffrail. One of -the newcomers, a fine muscular fellow, seeing Diggle -approaching, stood for a moment in surprise, then salaamed. -The Englishman said something in the stranger's tongue, -and grasped his hand with the familiarity of old friendship.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know the man, Mr. Diggle?" said the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, truly. The Gentoos and I are in a sense -comrades in arms. His name is Hybati; he's a Maratha."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's he jabbering about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man was talking rapidly and earnestly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He says, captain," returned Diggle with a smile, -"that he hopes you will send and fetch the crew's rice on -board. They won't eat our food--afraid of losing caste."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll be hanged if I launch the long-boat again. The -grab won't live another five minutes in this sea, and I -wouldn't risk two of my crew against a hundred of these -dirty Moors."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll starve otherwise, captain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, let 'em starve. I won't have any nonsense -aboard my ship. Beggars mustn't be choosers, and if the -heathen can't eat good honest English vittles they don't -deserve to eat at all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle smiled and explained to Hybati that his -provisions must be left to their fate. Even as he spoke a -heavy sea struck the vessel athwart, and amid cries from -the Marathas she heeled over and sank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the strangers had dried themselves, Diggle inquired -of Hybati how he came to be in his present predicament. -The Maratha explained that he had been in command -of Angria's fortress of Suvarndrug, which was so strong -that he had believed it able to withstand all attacks. But -one day a number of vessels of the East India Company's -fleet had appeared between the mainland and the island -on which the fortress was situated, and had begun a -bombardment which soon reduced the parapets to ruins. -The chief damage had been done by an English ship. -Hybati and his men had made the best defence they could, -but the gunners were shot down by musket fire from the -round-tops of the enemy, and when a shell set fire to a -thatched house within the fort, the garrison were too -much alarmed to attempt to extinguish the flames; the -blaze spread, a powder magazine blew up, and the inhabitants, -with the greater part of the soldiers, fled to the -shore, and tried to make their escape in eight large boats. -Hybati had kept up the fight for some time longer, hoping -to receive succour; but under cover of the fire of the -ships the English commodore landed half his seamen, who -rushed up to the gate, and, cutting down the sally-port -with their axes, forced their way in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seeing that the game was up, Hybati fled with thirty of -his men, and was lucky in pushing off in the grab -unobserved by the enemy. The winds, however, proving -contrary, the vessel had been blown northward along the -coast and then driven far out to sea. With the breaking -of the monsoon a violent squall had dismasted the grab -and shattered her bulkhead; she was continually shipping -water, and, as the sahib saw, was at the point of sinking -when the English ship came up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Such was the Maratha's story, as by and by it became -common property on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>. Of all the -crew Desmond was perhaps the most interested. To the -others there was nothing novel in the sight of the Indians; -but to him they stood for romance, the embodiment of all -the tales he had heard and all the dreams he had dreamed -of this wonderful country in the East. He was now -assured that he was actually within reach of his desired -haven; and he hoped shortly to see an end of the -disappointments and hardships, the toils and distresses, of -the long voyage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was eager to learn more of these Marathas, and their -fortress, and the circumstances of the recent fight. Bulger -was willing to tell all he knew; but his information was -not very exact, and Desmond did not hear the full story -till long after.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Malabar coast had long been the haunt of Maratha -pirates, who interfered greatly with the native trade -between India and Arabia and Persia. In defence of the -interests of his Mohammedan subjects the Mogul emperor -at length, in the early part of the eighteenth century, fitted -out a fleet, under the command of an admiral known as the -Sidi. But there happened to be among the Marathas at -that time a warrior of great daring and resource, one -Kunaji Angria. This man first defeated the Sidi, then, in -the insolence of victory, revolted against his own sovereign, -and set up as an independent ruler. By means of a -well-equipped fleet of grabs and gallivats he made himself -master of place after place along the coast, including -the Maratha fortress at Suvarndrug and the Portuguese -fort of Gheria. His successors, who adopted in turn the -dynastic name of Angria, followed up Kunaji's conquest, -until by the year 1750 the ruling Angria was in possession -of a strip of territory on the mainland a hundred and -eighty miles long and about forty broad, together with -many small adjacent islands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the defence of this little piratical state Angria's -Marathas constructed a number of forts, choosing -admirable positions and displaying no small measure of -engineering skill. From these strongholds they made depredations -by sea and land, not only upon their native neighbours, -but also upon the European traders, English, Dutch, and -Portuguese; swooping down on unprotected merchant -vessels and even presuming to attack warships. Several -expeditions had been directed against them, but always in -vain; and when in 1754 the chief of that date, Tulaji -Angria, known to Europeans as the Pirate, burnt two -large Dutch vessels of fifty and thirty-six guns -respectively, and captured a smaller one of eighteen guns, he -boasted in his elation that he would soon be master of the -Indian seas.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But a term was about to be put to his insolence and his -depredations. On March 22, 1755, Commodore William -James, commander of the East India Company's marine -force, set sail from Bombay in the </span><em class="italics">Protector</em><span> of forty-four -guns, with the </span><em class="italics">Swallow</em><span> of sixteen guns, and two bomb -vessels. With the assistance of a Maratha fleet he had -attacked the island fortress of Suvarndrug, and captured -it, as Hybati had related. A few days afterwards another -of the Pirate's fortresses, the island of Bancoote, six miles -north of Suvarndrug, surrendered. The Maratha rajah, -Ramaji Punt, delighted with these successes against -fortified places which had for nearly fifty years been -deemed impregnable, offered the English commodore an -immense sum of money to proceed against others of -Angria's forts; but the monsoon approaching, the -commodore was recalled to Bombay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The spot at which the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> had fallen in with the -sinking grab was about eighty miles from the Indian coast, -and Captain Barker expected to sight land next day. No -one was more delighted at the prospect than Desmond. -Leaving out of account the miseries of the long voyage, -he felt that he was now within reach of the goal of his -hopes. The future was all uncertain; he was no longer -inclined to trust his fortunes to Diggle, for though he -could not believe that the man had deliberately practised -against his life, he had with good reason lost confidence in -him, and what he had learnt from Bulger threw a new -light on his past career.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One thing puzzled him. If the Pirate was such a terror -to unprotected ships, and strong enough to attack several -armed vessels at once, why was Captain Barker running -into the very jaws of the enemy? In her palmy days as an -East Indiaman the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> had carried a dozen nine -pounders on her upper deck and six on the quarter-deck; -and Bulger had said that under a stout captain she had -once beaten off near Surat half a dozen three-masted grabs -and a score of gallivats from the pirate stronghold at -Gheria. But now she had only half a dozen guns all told, -and even had she possessed the full armament there were -not men enough to work them, for her complement of forty -men was only half what it had been when she sailed under -the Company's flag.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond confided his puzzlement to Bulger. The -seaman laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, bless 'ee, we en't a-goin' to run into no danger. -Trust Cap'n Barker for that. You en't supercargo, to be -sure; but who do you think them guns and round shots in -the hold be for? Why, the Pirate himself. And he'll pay -a good price for 'em too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you mean to say that English merchants supply -Angria with weapons to fight against their own countrymen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, blest if you en't a' innocent. In course -they do. The guns en't always fust-class metal, to be -sure; but what's the odds? The interlopers ha' got to -live."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't call that right. It's not patriotic."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patry what?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Patriotic--a right way of thinking of one's own -country. An Englishman isn't worth the name who helps -England's enemies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger looked at him in amazement. The idea of -patriotism was evidently new to him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll have to put that there notion in my pipe and smoke -it," he said. "I'd fight any mounseer, or Dutchman, or -Portuguee as soon as look at him, 'tis on'y natural; but if -a mounseer likes to give me twopence for a thing what's -worth a penny--why, I'll say thank 'ee and ax him--leastways -if there's any matey by as knows the lingo--to -buy another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shortly after dawn next morning the look-out reported -four vessels to windward. From their appearance Captain -Barker at once concluded that two were Company's ships, -with an escort of a couple of grabs. As he was still -scanning them he was joined by Diggle, with whom he entered -into conversation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're making for Bombay, I reckon," said the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I take it we don't wish to come to close quarters with -them, Barker?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder, no! But if we hold our present course -we're bound to pass within hailing distance. Better put -'em off the scent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He altered the vessel's course a point or two with the -object of passing to windward of the strangers, as if -steering for the Portuguese port of Goa.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're running up their colours," remarked Diggle -half an hour later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"British, as I thought. We'll hoist Portuguese."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A minute or two later a puff of smoke was observed to -sally from the larger of the two grabs, followed in a few -seconds by the boom of the gun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A call to us to heave-to," said Bulger in answer to -Desmond's inquiry. "The unbelievin' critters thinks that -Portuguee rag is all my eye."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> was by this time to windward of the -vessels, and Captain Barker, standing on the quarter-deck, -paid no heed to the signal. After a short interval another -puff came from the deck of the grab, and a round shot -plunged into the sea a cable's length from the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent's</em><span> -bows, the grab at the same time hauling her wind and -preparing to alter her course in pursuit. This movement -was at once copied by the other three vessels, but being at -least half a mile ahead of the grab that had fired, they were -a long distance astern when the chase--for chase it was to -be--began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Barker watched the grab with the eyes of a -lynx. The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> had run out of range while the -grab was being put about; but the captain knew very well -that the pursuer could sail much closer to the wind than -his own vessel, and that his only chance was to beat off -the leading boat before the others had time to come up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It required very little at any time to put Captain Barker -into a rage, and his demeanour was watched now with -different feelings by different members of his crew. Diggle -alone appeared unconcerned; he was smiling as he lolled -against the mast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They'll fire at me, will they?" growled the captain with -a curse. "And chase me, will they? By jiminy, they -shall sink me before I surrender!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Degeneres animos timor arguit,'" quoted Diggle, -smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Argue it? I'll be hanged if I argue it! They're not -King's ships to take it on 'emselves to stop me on the high -seas! If the Company wants to prevent me from honest -trading in these waters let 'em go to law, and be hanged -to 'em! Talk of arguing! Lawyer's work. Humph!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You mistake, Barker. The Roman fellow whose -words slipped out of my mouth almost unawares said -nothing of arguing. 'Fear is the mark only of base minds:' -so it runs in English, captain; which is as much as to say -that Captain Ben Barker is not the man to haul down his -colours in a hurry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're right there. Another shot! That's their -argument: well, Ben Barker can talk that way as well as -another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He called up the boatswain. Shortly afterwards the -order was piped, "Up all hammocks!" The men quickly -stowed their bedding, secured it with lashings, and carried -it to the appointed places on the quarter-deck, poop, or -forecastle. Meanwhile the boatswain and his mates secured -the yards; the ship's carpenter brought up shot plugs for -repairing any breaches made under the water-line; and -the gunners looked to the cannon and prepared charges for -them and the small arms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger was in charge of the 12-pounder aft, and -Mr. Toley had told off Desmond to assist him. They stood -side by side watching the progress of the grab, which -gained steadily in spite of the plunging due to its curious -build. Presently another shot came from her; it shattered -the belfry on the forecastle of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, and splashed -into the sea a hundred yards ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They make good practice, for sartin," remarked -Bulger. "I may be wrong, but I'll lay my life there be old -man-o'-war's men aboard. I mind me when I was with -Captain Golightly on the </span><em class="italics">Minotaur</em><span>----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Bulger's yarn was intercepted. At that moment -the boatswain piped, "All hands to quarters!" In a -surprisingly short time all timber was cleared away, the galley -fire was extinguished, the yards slung, the deck strewn -with wet sand, and sails, booms, and boats liberally -drenched with water. The gun-captains, each with his -crew, cast loose the lashings of their weapons and struck -open the ports. The tompions were taken out, the sponge, -rammer, crows and handspikes placed in readiness, and all -awaited eagerly the word for the action to begin.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis about time we opened our mouths at 'em," said -Bulger. "The next bolus they send us as like as not will -bring the spars a-rattlin' about our ears. To be sure it -goes against my stummick to fire on old messmates; but -it en't in Englishmen to hold their noses and swaller pills -o' that there size. We'll load up all ready, mateys."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stripped to the waist, and tied a handkerchief over -his ears. Desmond and the men followed his example. -Then one of them sponged the bore, another inserted the -cartridge, containing three pounds of powder, by means of -a long ladle, a third shoved in a wad of rope yarn. This -having been driven home by the rammer, the round shot -was inserted, and covered like the cartridge with a wad. -Then Bulger took his priming-iron, an instrument like a -long thin corkscrew, and thrust it into the touch-hole to -clear the vent and make an incision in the cartridge. -Removing the priming-iron, he replaced it by the -priming-tube--a thin tapering tube with very narrow bore. Into -this he poured a quantity of fine mealed powder; then he -laid a train of the same powder in the little groove cut in -the gun from the touch-hole towards the breech. With -the end of his powder-horn he slightly bruised the train, -and the gun only awaited a spark from the match.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Everything was done very quickly, and Desmond -watched the seamen with admiration. He himself had -charge of the linstock, about which were wound several -matches, consisting of lengths of twisted cotton wick -steeped in lye. They had already been lighted, for they -burnt so slowly that they would last for several hours.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now we're ship-shape," said Bulger. "Mind you, -Burke, don't come too far for'ard with your linstock. I -don't want the train fired with no sparks afore I'm ready. -And 'ware o' the breech; she'll kick like a jumpin' jackass -when the shot flies out of her, an'll knock your teeth out -afore you can say Jack Robinson.--Ah! there's the word -at last; now, mateys, here goes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He laid the gun, waited for the ship to rise from a roll, -then took one of the matches, gently blew its smouldering -end, and applied the glowing wick to the bruised -part of the priming. There was a flash, a roar, and -before Desmond could see the effect of the shot Bulger had -closed the vent, the gun was run in, and the sponger was -at work cleaning the chamber. As the black smoke cleared -away it was apparent that the seaman had not forgotten -his cunning. The shot had struck the grab on the deck of -the prow and smashed into the forecastle. But the -bow-chasers were apparently uninjured, for they replied a few -seconds later.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah! There's a wunner!" said Bulger admiringly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A shot had carried away a yard of the gunwale of the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, scattering splinters far and wide, which inflicted -nasty wounds on the second mate and a seaman on the -quarter-deck. A jagged end of wood flying high struck -Diggle on the left cheek. He wiped away the blood -imperturbably; it was evident that lack of courage was not -among his defects.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Barker's ire was now at white heat. Shouting -an order to Bulger and the next man to make rapid -practice with the two stern-chasers, he prepared to -fall off and bring the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent's</em><span> broadside to bear on -the enemy. But the next shot was decisive. Diggle had -quietly strolled down to the gun next to Bulger's. It -had just been reloaded. He bade the gun-captain, in -a low tone, to move aside. Then, with a glance to see -that the priming was in order, he took careful sight, and -waiting until the grab's main, mizzen, and foremasts opened -to view all together, he applied the match. The shot -sped true, and a second later the grab's mainmast, with -sails and rigging, went by the board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A wild cheer from the crew of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> acclaimed -the excellent shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder!" said Bulger to Desmond, "Diggle may be -a rogue, but he knows how to train a gun."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Barker signified his approval by a tremendous -mouth-filling oath. But he was not yet safe. The second -grab was following hard in the wake of the first; and it -was plain that the two Indiamen were both somewhat -faster than the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>; for during the running fight -that had just ended so disastrously for the grab, they had -considerably lessened the gap between them and their -quarry. Captain Barker watched them with an expression -of fierce determination; but not without anxiety. If -they should come within striking distance it was -impossible to withstand successfully their heavier armament -and larger crews. The firing had ceased: each vessel -had crowded on all sail; and the brisk breeze must soon -bring pursuer and pursued to a close engagement which -could have only one result.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be wrong, but seems to me we'd better say -our prayers," Bulger remarked grimly to his gun crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Desmond, gazing up at the shrouds, said suddenly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The wind's dropping. Look!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was true. Before the monsoon sets in in earnest -it not unfrequently happens that the wind veers fitfully; -a squall is succeeded almost instantaneously by a calm. -So it was now. In less than an hour all five vessels were -becalmed; and when night fell, three miles separated the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> from the second grab; the Indiamen lay a -mile further astern; and the damaged vessel was out of -sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Captain Barker took counsel with his officers. He -expected to be attacked during the night by the united -boats of the pursuing fleet. Under cover of darkness -they would be able to creep up close and board the vessel; -and the captain knew well that if taken he would be -treated as a pirate. His papers were made out for -Philadelphia; he had hoisted Portuguese colours, but the -enemy at close quarters could easily see that the </span><em class="italics">Good -Intent</em><span> was British built; he had disabled one of the -Company's vessels; there would be no mercy for him. He -saw no chance of beating off the enemy; they would -outnumber him by at least five to one. Even if the wind -sprang up again there was small likelihood of escape. -One or other of the pursuing vessels would almost -certainly overhaul him, and hold him till the others came up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis a 'tarnal fix," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Methinks 'tis a case of 'actum est de nobis'," re -marked Diggle, pleasantly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Confound you!" said the captain with a burst of -anger. "What could I expect with a gallows-bird like -you aboard? 'Tis enough to sink a vessel without shot."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle's face darkened. But in a moment his smile -returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are overwrought, captain," he said; "you are -unstrung. 'Twould be ridiculous to take amiss words -said in haste. In cool blood--well, you know me, Captain -Barker. I will leave you to recover from your brief madness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went below. The captain was left with Mr. Toley -and the other officers. Barker and Toley always got on -well together, for the simple reason that the mate never -thwarted his superior, never resented his abuse, but went -quietly his own way. He listened now for a quarter of -an hour, with fixed sadness of expression, while Captain -Barker poured the vials of his wrath upon everything -under the sun. When the captain had come to an end, -and sunk into a state of lowering dudgeon, Mr. Toley said -quietly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis all you say, sir, and more. I guess I've never -seen a harder case. But while you was speaking, -something you said struck a sort of idea into my brain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That don't happen often. What is it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, the sort of idea that came to me out o' what -you was saying was just this. How would it be to take -soundings?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So that's your notion, is it? Hang me, are you a -fool like the rest of 'em! You're always taking soundings! -What in the name of thunder do you want to take -soundings for?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing particular, cap'n. That was the kind o' notion -that come of what you was saying. Of course it depends -on the depth hereabouts."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Deep enough to sink you and your notions and all -that's like to come of 'em. Darned if I han't got the -most lubberly ship's company ever mortal man was plagued -with. Officers and men, there en't one of you as is worth -your salt, and you with your long face and your notions--why, -hang me, you're no more good than the dirtiest -waister afloat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Toley smiled sadly, and ventured on no rejoinder. -After the captain's outburst none of the group dared to -utter a word. This pleased him no better; he cursed -them all for standing mum, and spent ten minutes in -reviling them in turn. Then his passion appeared to -have burnt itself out. Turning suddenly to the melancholy -mate, he said roughly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go and heave your lead, then, and be hanged to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Toley walked away aft and ordered one of the men -to heave the deep-sea lead. The plummet, shaped like -the frustum of a cone, and weighing thirty pounds, was -thrown out from the side in the line of the vessel's drift.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the mark sixty, less five," sang out the man when -the lead touched the bottom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess that'll do," said the first mate, returning to -the quarter-deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, what about your notion?" said the captain -scornfully. But he listened quietly and with an intent -look upon his weather-beaten face as Mr. Toley explained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, sir," he said, "while you was talking just -now, I sort o' saw that if they attack us, 'twon't be for -at least two hours after dark. The boats won't put off -while there's light enough to see 'em; and won't hurry -anyhow, 'cos if they did the men 'ud have nary much -strength left to 'em. Well, they'll take our bearings, of -course. Thinks I, owing to what you said, sir, what if -we could shift 'em by half a mile or so? The boats 'ud -miss us in the darkness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's so," ejaculated the captain; "and what then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, sir, 'tis there my idea of taking soundings comes -in. The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> can't be towed, not with our handful -of men; but why shouldn't she be kedged? That's the -notion, sir; and I guess you'll think it over."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By jimmy, Mr. Toley, you en't come out o' Salem -Massachusetts for nothing. 'Tis a notion, a rare one; Ben -Barker en't the man to bear a grudge, and I take back -them words o' mine--leastways some on 'em. Bo'sun, -get ready to lower the long-boat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The long-boat was lowered, out of sight of the enemy. -A kedge anchor, fastened to a stout hawser, was put on -board, and as soon as it was sufficiently dark to make -so comparatively small an object as a boat invisible to -the hostile craft, she put off at right angles to the </span><em class="italics">Good -Intent's</em><span> previous course, the hawser attached to the kedge -being paid out as the boat drew away. When it had -gone about a fifth of a mile from the vessel the kedge -was dropped, and a signal was given by hauling on the rope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Clap on, men!" cried Captain Barker. "Get a good -purchase, and none of your sing-song; avast all jabber."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The crew manned the windlass and began with a will to -haul on the cable in dead silence. The vessel was slowly -warped ahead. Meanwhile the long-boat was returning; -when she reached the side of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, a second -kedge was lowered into her, and again she put off, to -drop the anchor two cables' length beyond the first, so -that when the ship had tripped that, the second was ready -to be hauled on.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> had been thus warped a mile -from her position at nightfall, Captain Barker ordered -the operation to be stopped. To avoid noise the boat -was not hoisted in. No lights were shown, and the sky -being somewhat overcast, the boat's crew found that the -ship was invisible at the distance of a fourth of a cable's -length.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be wrong," said Bulger to Desmond, "but I -don't believe kedgin' was ever done so far from harbour -afore. I allers thought there was something in that long -head of Mr. Toley, though, to be sure, there en't no call -for him to pull a long face too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour passed after the kedging had been stopped. -All on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> remained silent, or spoke -in whispers, if they spoke at all. There had been no -signs of the expected attack. Desmond was leaning on -the gunwale, straining his eyes for a glimpse of the -enemy. But his ears gave him the first intimation of -their approach. He heard a faint creaking, as of oars -in rowlocks, and stepped back to where Bulger was -leaning against the mast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There they come," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sound had already reached Captain Barker's ears. -It was faint; doubtless the oars were muffled. The ship -was rolling lazily; save for the creaking nothing was -heard but the lapping of the ripples against the hull. -So still was the night that the slightest sound must travel -far, and the captain remarked in a whisper to Mr. Toley -that he guessed the approaching boats to be at least six -cable-lengths distant. Officers and men listened intently. -The creaking grew no louder; on the contrary, it gradually -became fainter, and at last died away. There was a long -silence, broken only by what sounded like a low hail some -considerable distance astern.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They're musterin' the boats," said Bulger, with a -chuckle. "I may be wrong, but I'll bet my breeches they -find they've overshot the mark. Now they'll scatter and -try to nose us out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Another hour of anxious suspense slowly passed, and -still nothing had happened. Then suddenly a blue light -flashed for a few moments on the blackness of the sea, -answered almost instantaneously by a rocket from another -quarter. It was clear that the boats, having signalled -that the search had failed, had been recalled by the rocket -to the fleet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder, Mr. Toley, you've done the trick!" said -the captain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I guess we don't get our living by making mistakes--not -in Salem, Massachusetts," returned the first mate with -his sad smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through the night the watch was kept with more than -ordinary vigilance, but nothing occurred to give Captain -Barker anxiety. With morning light the enemy could be -seen far astern.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-tenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero arrives in the Golden East; -and Mr. Diggle presents him to a native -prince.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>About midday a light breeze sprang up from the north-west. -The two Indiamen and the uninjured grab, being -the first to catch it, gained a full mile before the </span><em class="italics">Good -Intent</em><span>, under topgallant sails, studding sails, royal and -driver, began to slip through the water at her best speed. -But, as the previous day's experience had proved, she was -no match in sailing capacity for the pursuers. They gained -on her steadily, and the grab had come almost within -cannon-range when the man at the mast-head shouted:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sail ho! About a dozen sail ahead, sir!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The captain spluttered out a round dozen oaths, and his -dark face grew still darker. So many vessels in company -must surely mean the King's ships with a convoy. The -French, so far as Captain Barker knew, had no such fleet -in Indian waters, nor had the Dutch or Portuguese. If -they were indeed British men-o'-war he would be caught -between two fires, for there was not a doubt that they -would support the Company's vessels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We ought to be within twenty miles o' the coast, -Mr. Toley," said Captain Barker.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, sir, and somewhere in the latitude of Gheria."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Odds bobs, and now I come to think of it, those there -vessels may be sailing to attack Gheria, seeing as how, -as these niggers told us, they've bust up Suvarndrug."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Guess I'll get to the foretop myself and take a look, -sir," said Mr. Toley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He mounted, carrying the only perspective glass the -vessel possessed. The captain watched him anxiously as -he took a long look.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you make of 'em?" he shouted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mate shut up the telescope and came leisurely down.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I count fifteen in all, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't care how many. What are they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I calculate they're grabs and gallivats, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The captain gave a hoarse chuckle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder, then, we'll soon turn the tables! Angria's -gallivats--eh, Mr. Toley? We'll make a haul yet."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Captain Barker was to be disappointed. The fleet -had been descried also by the pursuers. A few minutes -later the grab threw out a signal, hauled her wind and -stood away to the northward, followed closely by the -two larger vessels. The captain growled his disappointment. -Nearly a dozen of the coast craft, as they were -now clearly seen to be, went in pursuit, but with little -chance of coming up with the chase. The remaining -vessels of the newly-arrived fleet stood out to meet the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fetch up that Maratha fellow," cried the captain, -"and hoist a white flag."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the Maratha appeared, a pitiable object, -emaciated from want of food, Captain Barker bade him shout -as soon as the newcomers came within hailing distance. -The white flag at the mast-head, and a loud long-drawn -hail from Hybati, apprised the grab that the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> -was no enemy, and averted hostilities. And thus it was, -amid a convoy of Angria's own fleet, that Captain Barker's -vessel, a few hours later, sailed peacefully into the -harbour of Gheria.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond looked with curious eyes on the famous fort -and harbour. On the right, as the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> entered, -he saw a long narrow promontory, at the end of which -was a fortress, constructed, as it appeared, of solid rock. -The promontory was joined to the mainland by a narrow -isthmus of sand, beyond which lay an open town of some -size. The shore was fringed with palmyras, mangoes and -other tropical trees, and behind the straw huts and stone -buildings of the town leafy groves clothed the sides of a -gentle hill. The harbour, which formed the mouth of a -river, was studded with Angria's vessels, large and small, -and from the docks situated on the sandy isthmus came -the busy sound of shipwrights at work. The rocky walls -of the fort were fifty feet high, with round towers, long -curtains, and some fifty embrasures. The left shore of -the harbour was flat, but to the south of the fort rose a -hill of the same height as the walls of rock. Such was -the headquarters of the notorious pirate Tulaji Angria, the -last of the line which had for fifty years been the terror of -the Malabar coast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> dropped anchor off the jetty running -out from the docks north of the fort. Captain Barker -had already given orders that no shore leave was to be -allowed to the crew, and as soon as he had stepped -into the long-boat, accompanied by Diggle, the men's -discontent broke forth in angry imprecations, which -Mr. Toley wisely affected not to hear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No time was lost in unloading the portion of the cargo -intended for Angria. The goods were carried along the -jetty by stalwart Marathas clad only in loin-cloths, to be -stored in rude cabins with penthouse roofs. As Desmond -knew, the heavy chests that taxed the strength of the -bearers contained for the most part muskets and -ammunition. The work went on for the greater part of the -day, and at nightfall neither the captain nor Diggle had -returned to the vessel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day a large quantity of Indian produce was taken -on board. Desmond noticed that as the bales and casks -reached the deck, some of the crew were told off to remove -all marks from them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that for?" repeated Bulger, in reply to a -question of Desmond's. "Why, 'cos if the ship came to be -overhauled by a Company's vessel, it would tell tales if the -cargo had Company's marks on it. That wouldn't do by -no manner o' means."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how should they get Company's marks on them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger winked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're raw yet, Burke," he said. "You'll know quite -as much as is good for you by the time you've made -another voyage or two in the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But I don't intend to make another voyage in her. -Mr. Diggle promised to get me employment in the country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What? You still believes in that there Diggle? Well, -I don't want to hurt no feelin's, and I may be wrong, but -I'll lay my bottom dollar Diggle won't do a hand's turn for -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The second day passed, and in the evening Captain -Barker, who had hitherto left Mr. Toley in charge, came -aboard in high good humour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be wrong," remarked Bulger, "but judgin' by -cap'n's face, he've been an' choused the Pirate--got twice -the vally o' the goods he's landed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder where Mr. Diggle is?" said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You en't no call to mourn for him, I tell you. He's -an old friend of the Pirate, don't make no mistake; neither -you nor me will be any the worse for not seein' his -grinnin' phiz no more. Thank your stars he've left you alone -for the last part of the voyage, which I wonder at, all the -same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day all was bustle on board in preparation for -sailing. In the afternoon a peon[#] came hurrying along the -jetty, boarded the vessel, and handed a note to the captain, -who read it, tore it up, and dismissed the messenger. He -went down to his cabin, and coming up a few minutes -later, cried:</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Messenger.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Where's that boy Burke?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here, sir," cried Desmond, starting up from the -place where, in Bulger's company, he had been splicing a -rope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Idling away your time as usual, of course. Here, -take this chit[#] and run ashore. 'Tis for Mr. Diggle, as -you can see if you can read."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Note.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"But how am I to find him, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hang me, that's your concern. Find him, and give -the chit into his own hand, and be back without any -tomfoolery, or by thunder I'll lay a rope across your -shoulders."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond took the note, left the vessel, and hurried -along the jetty. After what Bulger had said he was not -very well pleased at the prospect of meeting Diggle again. -At the shore end of the jetty he was accosted by the peon -who had brought Diggle's note on board. The man -intimated by signs that he would show the way, and -Desmond, wondering why the Indian had not himself waited -to receive Captain Barker's answer, followed him at a -rapid pace on shore, past the docks, through a corner of -the town, where the appearance of a white stranger -attracted the curious attention of the natives, to an open -space in front of the entrance to the fort. Here they -arrived at a low wall cut by an open gateway, at each side -of which stood a Maratha sentry armed with a matchlock. -A few words were exchanged between Desmond's guide -and one of the sentries; the two entered, crossed a -compound dotted with trees, and passing through the principal -gateway came to a large square building near the centre -of the fort. The door of this was guarded by a sentry. -Again a few words were spoken. Desmond fancied he -saw a slight smile curl the lips of the natives; then the -sentry called another peon who stood at hand, and sent -him into the palace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt a strange sinking at heart. The smile -upon these dark faces awakened a vague uneasiness; it -was so like Diggle's smile. He supposed that the man -had gone in to report that he had arrived with the -captain's answer. The note still remained with him; the -Marathas apparently knew that it was to be delivered -personally; yet he was left at the door, and his guide stood by -in an attitude that suggested he was on guard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How long was he to be kept waiting? he wondered. -Captain Barker had ordered him to return at once; the -penalty for disobedience he knew only too well; yet the -minutes passed, and lengthened into two hours without -any sign of the man who had gone in with the message. -Desmond spoke to his guide, but the man shook his head, -knowing no English. Becoming more and more uneasy, -he was at length relieved to see the messenger come back -to the door and beckon him to enter. As he passed the -sentries they made him a salaam in which his anxious -sensitiveness detected a shade of mockery; but before he -could define his feelings he reached a third door guarded -like the others, and was ushered in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found himself in a large chamber, its walls dazzling -with barbaric decoration--figures of Ganessa, a favourite -idol of the Marathas, of monstrous elephants, and -peacocks with enormously expanded tails. The hall was so -crowded that his first confusion was redoubled. A path -was made through the throng as at a signal, and at the -end of the room he saw two men apart from the rest. -One of them, standing a little back from the other, was -Diggle; the other, a tall, powerful figure in raiment as -gaudy as the painted peacocks around him, his fingers -covered with rings, a diamond blazing in his headdress, was -sitting cross-legged on a dais. Behind him, against -the wall, was an image of Ganessa, made of solid gold, -with diamonds for eyes, and blazing with jewels. At one -side was his hookah, at the other a two-edged sword and -an unsheathed dagger. Below the dais on either hand two -fierce-visaged Marathas stood, their heads and shoulders -covered with a helmet, their bodies cased in a quilted -vest, each holding a straight two-edged sword. Between -Angria and the idol two fan-bearers lightly swept -the air above their lord's head with broad fans of palm -leaves.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond walked towards the dais, feeling wofully out -of place amid the brilliant costumes of Angria's court. -Scarcely two of the Marathas were dressed alike; some -were in white, some in lilac, others in purple, but each -with ornaments after his own taste. Desmond had not -had time before leaving the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> to smarten himself -up, and he stood there a tall, thin, sunburnt youth in dirty, -tattered garments, doing his best to face the assembly -with British courage. At the foot of the dais he paused and -held out the captain's note. Diggle took it in silence, -his face wearing the smile that Desmond knew so well -and now so fully distrusted. Without reading it, he tore -it in fragments and threw them upon the floor, at the same -time saying a few words to the resplendent figure at his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tulaji Angria was dark, inclined to be fat, and not -unpleasant in feature. But it was with a scowling brow -that he replied to Diggle. Desmond was no coward, but -he afterwards confessed that as he stood there watching the -two faces, the dark lowering face of Angria, the smiling, -scarcely less swarthy face of Diggle, he felt his knees -tremble under him. What was the Pirate saying? That -he was the subject of their conversation was plain from -the glances thrown at him; that he was at a crisis in his -fate he knew by instinct; but, ignorant of the tongue they -spoke, he could but wait in fearful anxiety and mistrust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He learnt afterwards the purport of the talk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is your man!" said Angria. "You have deceived -me. I looked for a man of large stature and robust make, -like the Englishmen I already have. What good will this -slim, starved stripling be in my barge?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must not be impatient, huzur[#]," replied Diggle. -"He is a stripling, it is true; slim, certainly; starved--well, -the work on board ship does not tend to fatten a -man. But give him time; he is but sixteen or seventeen -years old, young in my country. In a year or two, under -your regimen, he will develop; he comes of a hardy stock, -and already he can make himself useful. He was one of the -quickest and handiest on board our ship, though this was -his first voyage."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Lord.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"But you yourself admit that he is not yet competent -for the oar in my barge. What is to recompense me for -the food he will eat while he is growing? No, Diggle -sahib, if I take him I must have some allowance off the -price. In truth, I will not take him unless you send me -from your vessel a dozen good muskets. That is my -word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still, huzur----" began Diggle, but Angria cut him -short with a gesture of impatience.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is my word, I say. Shall I, Tulaji Angria, -dispute with you? I will have twenty muskets, or you may -keep the boy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle shrugged and smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, huzur. You drive a hard bargain; but it -shall be as you say. I will send a chit to the captain, and -you shall have the muskets before the ship sails."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Angria made a sign to one of his attendants. The man -approached Desmond, took him by the sleeve, and signed -to him to come away. Desmond threw a beseeching look -at Diggle, and said hurriedly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Diggle, please tell me----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Angria rose to his feet in wrath, and shouted to the -man who had Desmond by the sleeve. Desmond made no -further resistance. His head swam as he passed between -the dusky ranks out into the courtyard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What does it all mean?" he asked himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His guide hurried him along until they came to a barn-like -building under the north-west angle of the fort. The -Maratha unlocked the door, signed to Desmond to enter, -and locked him in. He was alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spent three miserable hours. Bitterly did he now -regret having cast in his lot with the smooth-spoken -stranger who had been so sympathetic with him in his -troubles at home. He tried to guess what was to be done -with him. He was in Angria's power, a prisoner, but to -what end? Had he run from the tyranny at home merely -to fall a victim to a worse tyranny at the hands of an -Oriental? He knew so little of Angria, and his brain was -in such a turmoil, that he could not give definite shape to -his fears. He paced up and down the hot, stuffy shed, -awaiting, dreading, he knew not what. Through the hole -that served for a window he saw men passing to and fro -across the courtyard, but they were all swarthy, all alien; -there was no one from whom he could expect a friendly word.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Towards evening, as he looked through the hole, he -saw Diggle issue from the door of the palace and cross -towards the outer gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Diggle! Mr. Diggle!" he called. "Please! I am -locked up here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle looked round, smiled, and leisurely approached -the shed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why have they shut me up here?" demanded Desmond. -"Captain Barker said I was to return at once. -Do get the door unlocked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You ask the impossible, my young friend," replied -Diggle through the hole. "You are here by the orders of -Angria, and 'twould be treason in me to pick his -locks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why? what right has he to lock me up? and you, -why did you let him? You said you were my friend; you -promised--oh, you know what you promised."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I promised? Truly, I promised that, if you were -bent on accompanying me to these shores, I would use -my influence to procure you employment with one of my -friends among the native princes. Well, I have kept my -word; 'firmavi fidem,' as the Latin hath it. Angria is my -friend; I have used my influence with him; and you are -now in the service of one of the most potent of Indian -princes. True, your service is but beginning. It may be -arduous at first; it may be long 'ab ovo usque ad mala'; -the egg may be hard, and the apples, perchance, somewhat -sour; but as you become inured to your duties, you will -learn resignation and patience, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't!" burst out Desmond, unable to endure the -smooth-flowing periods of the man now self-confessed a -villain. "What does it mean? Tell me plainly; am I -a slave?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Servulus, non servus,' my dear boy. What is the odds -whether you serve Dick Burke, a booby farmer, or Tulaji -Angria, a prince and a man of intelligence? Yet there is -a difference, and I would give you a word of counsel. -Angria is an Oriental, and a despot; it were best to serve -him with all diligence, or----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He finished the sentence with a meaning grimace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Diggle, you can't mean it," said Desmond. "Don't -leave me here! I implore you to release me. What have -I ever done to you? Don't leave me in this awful place."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle smiled and began to move away. At the sight -of his malicious smile the prisoner's despair was swept -away before a tempest of rage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You scoundrel! You shameless scoundrel!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words, low spoken and vibrant with contempt, -reached Diggle when he was some distance from the shed. -He turned and sauntered back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heia! Contumeliosae voces! 'Tis pretty abuse. My -young friend, I must withdraw my ears from such shocking -language. But stay! if you have any message for Sir -Willoughby, your squire, whose affections you have so -diligently cultivated to the prejudice of his nearest and -dearest, it were well for you to give it. 'Tis your last -opportunity; for those who enter Angria's service enjoy -a useful but not a long career. And before I return to -Gheria from a little journey I am about to take, you may -have joined the majority of those who have tempted fate in -this insalubrious clime. In a moment swift death -cometh--you remember the phrase?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle leant against the wooden wall, watching with -malicious enjoyment the effect of his words. Desmond -was very pale; all his strength seemed to have deserted -him. Finding that his taunts provoked no reply, Diggle -went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Time presses, my young friend. You will be logged -a deserter from the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>. 'Tis my fervent hope -you never fall into the hands of Captain Barker; as you -know, he is a terrible man when roused."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Waving his gloved hand he moved away. Desmond -did not watch his departure. Falling back from the -window, he threw himself upon the ground, and gave -way to a long fit of black despair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How long he lay in this agony he knew not. But he -was at last roused by the opening of the door. It was -almost dark. Rising to his feet, he saw a number of -men hustled into the shed. Ranged along one of the walls, -they squatted on the floor, and for some minutes -afterwards Desmond heard the clank of irons and the harsh -grating of a key. Then a big Maratha came to him, searched -him thoroughly, clapped iron bands upon his ankles, and -locked the chains to staples in the wall. Soon the door -was shut, barred, and locked, and Desmond found himself -a prisoner with eight others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a little they spoke among themselves, in the low -tones of men utterly spent and dispirited. Then all was -silent, and they slept. But Desmond lay wide awake, -waiting for the morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The shed was terribly hot. Air came only through the -one narrow opening, and before an hour was past the -atmosphere was foul, seeming the more horrible to Desmond -by contrast with the freshness of his life on the ocean. -Mosquitoes nipped him until he could scarcely endure -the intense irritation. He would have given anything -for a little water; but though he heard a sentry pacing -up and down outside, he did not venture to call to -him, and could only writhe in heat and torture, longing -for the dawn, yet fearing it and what it might bring forth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Worn and haggard after his sleepless night, Desmond -had scarcely spirit enough to look with curiosity on his -fellow-prisoners when the shed was faintly lit by the -morning sun. But he saw that the eight men, all natives, -were lying on rude charpoys[#] along the wall, each man -chained to a staple like his own. One of the men was -awake; and, catching Desmond's lustreless eyes fixed upon -him, he sat up and returned his gaze.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Mat beds.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Your honour is an English gentleman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The words caused Desmond to start: they were so -unexpected in such a place. The Indian spoke softly and -carefully, as if anxious not to awaken his companions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," replied Desmond. "Who are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name, sir, is Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti. I was -lately a clerk in the employ of a burra[#] sahib, English -factor, at Calcutta."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Great.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"How did you get here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, sahib, is a moving tale. While on a visit of -condolence to my respectable uncle and aunt at Chittagong, -I was kidnapped by Sanderband piratical dogs. Presto!--at -that serious crisis a Dutch ship makes apparition and -rescues me; but my last state is more desperate than the -first. The Dutch vessel will not stop to replace me on -mother-earth; she is for Bombay across the kala pani[#], as -we say. I am not a swimmer; besides, what boots it?--we -are ten miles from land, to say nothing of sharks and -crocodiles and the lordly tiger. So I perforce remain, to -the injury of my caste, which forbids navigation. But see -the issue. The Dutch ship is assaulted; grabs and -gallivats galore swarm upon the face of the waters; all is -confusion worse confounded; in a brace of shakes we are in -the toils. It is now two years since this untoward -catastrophe. With the crew I am conveyed hither and eat the -bitter crust of servitude. Some of the Dutchmen are -consigned to other forts in possession of the Pirate, and three -serve here in his state barge."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Black water--the sea.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond glanced at the sleeping forms.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir, they are not here," said the Babu[#], catching -his look. "They share another apartment with your -countrymen--chained? Oh yes! These, my bedfellows -of misfortune, are Indians, not of Bengal, like myself; -two are Biluchis hauled from a country ship; two are -Musalmans from Mysore; one a Gujarati; two Marathas. -We are a motley crew--a miscellany, no less."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Equivalent to Mr.; generally applied to educated Bengalis.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What do they do with you in the daytime?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I, sir, adjust accounts of the Pirate's dockyard; for -this I am qualified by prolonged driving of quill in -Calcutta, to expressed satisfaction of Honourable -Company and English merchants. But my position, sir, is of -Damoclean anxiety. I am horrified by conviction that one -small error of calculation will entail direst retribution. -Videlicet, sir, this week a fellow-captive is minus a finger -and thumb--and all for oversight of six annas.[#] But I -hear the step of our jailer; I must bridle my tongue."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The anna is the sixteenth part of a rupee.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Babu had spoken throughout in a low monotonous -tone that had not disturbed the slumbers of his -fellow-prisoners. But they were all awakened by the noisy -opening of the door and the entrance of their jailer. He went -to each in turn, and unlocked their fetters; then they filed -out in dumb submission, to be escorted by armed sentries -to the different sheds where they fed, each caste by itself. -When the eight had disappeared the jailer turned to -Desmond, and, taking him by the sleeve, led him across the -courtyard into the palace. Here, in a little room, he was -given a meagre breakfast of rice; after which he was -taken to another room where he found Angria in company -with a big Maratha, who had in his hand a long bamboo -cane. The Pirate was no longer in durbar[#] array, but was -clad in a long yellow robe with a lilac-coloured shawl.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Council, ceremonial.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Conscious that he made a very poor appearance in his -tatters, Desmond felt that the two men looked at him with -contempt. A brief conversation passed between them; -then the Maratha salaamed to Angria and went from the -room, beckoning Desmond to follow him. They went out -of the precincts of the palace, and through a part of the -town, until they arrived at the docks. There the labourers, -slaves and free, were already at work. Desmond at the -first glance noticed several Europeans among them, miserable -objects who scarcely lifted their heads to look at this -latest newcomer of their race. His guide called up one -of the foremen shipwrights, and instructed him to place -the boy among a gang of the workmen. Then he went -away. Scarcely a minute had elapsed when Desmond -heard a cry, and looking round, saw the man brutally -belabouring with his rattan the bare shoulders of a -native. He quivered; the incident seemed of ill augury. -In a few minutes Desmond found himself among a gang -of men who were working at a new gallivat in process of -construction for Angria's own use. He received his orders -in dumb show from the foreman of the gang. Miserable -as he was, he would not have been a boy if he had not -been interested in his novel surroundings; and no -intelligent boy could have failed to take an interest in the -construction of a gallivat. It was a large rowboat of from -thirty to seventy tons, with two masts, the mizzen being -very slight. The mainmast bore one huge sail, triangular -in form, its peak extending to a considerable height above -the mast. The smaller gallivats were covered with a spar -deck made of split bamboos, their armament consisting -of pettararoes fixed on swivels in the gunwale. But the -larger vessels had a fixed deck on which were mounted -six or eight cannon, from two- to four-pounders; and in -addition to their sail they had from forty to fifty oars, so -that, with a stout crew, they attained, even in a calm, a rate -of four or five miles an hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the first things Desmond learnt was that the -Indian mode of shipbuilding differed fundamentally from -the European. The timbers were fitted in after the planks -had been put together; and the planks were put together, -not with flat edges, but rabbeted, the parts made to -correspond with the greatest exactness. When a plank was -set up, its edge was smeared with red lead, and the edge -of the plank to come next was pressed down upon it, the -inequalities in its surface being thus shown by the marks -of the lead. These being smoothed away, if necessary -several times, and the edges fitting exactly, they were -rubbed with da'ma, a sort of glue that in course of time -became as hard as iron. The planks were then firmly -riveted with pegs, and by the time the work was finished -the seams were scarcely visible, the whole forming -apparently one entire piece of timber.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The process of building a gallivat was thus a very long -and tedious one; but the vessel when completed was so -strong that it could go to sea for many years before the -hull needed repair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond learnt all this only gradually; but from the -first day, making a virtue of necessity, he threw himself -into the work and became very useful, winning the good -opinion of the officers of the dockyard. His feelings were -frequently wrung by the brutal punishments inflicted by -the overseer upon defaulters. The man had absolute power -over the workers. He could flog them, starve them, even -cut off their ears and noses. One of his favourite devices -was to tie a quantity of oiled cotton round each of a man's -fingers and set light to these living torches. Another, used -with a man whom he considered lazy, was the tank. Between -the dockyard and the river, separated from the latter -only by a thin wall, was a square cavity about seven feet -deep covered with boarding, in the centre of which was a -circular hole. In the wall was a small orifice through -which water could be let in from the river, while in the -opposite wall was the pipe and spout of a small -hand-pump. The man whom the overseer regarded as an idler -was let down into the tank, the covering replaced, and -water allowed to enter from the river. This was a potent -spur to the defaulter's activity, for if he did not work the -pump fast enough the water would gradually rise in the -tank, and he would drown. Desmond learnt of one case -where the man, utterly worn out by his life of alternate -toil and punishment, refused to work the pump and stood -in silent indifference while the water mounted inch by inch -until it covered his head and ended his woes.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's diligence in the dockyard pleased the -overseer, whose name was Govinda, and he was by and by -employed on lighter tasks which took him sometimes into -the town. Until the novelty wore off he felt a lively -interest in the scenes that met his eye--the bazaars, crowded -with dark-skinned natives, the men moustachioed, clad for -the most part in white garments that covered them from -the crown of the head to the knee, with a touch of red -sometimes in their turbans; the women with bare heads -and arms and feet, garbed in red and blue; the gosains, -mendicants with matted hair and unspeakable filth; the -women who fried chapatis[#] on griddles in the streets, -grinding their meal in handmills; the sword-grinders, -whetting the blades of the Maratha two-edged swords; -the barbers, whose shops had a never-ending succession -of customers; the Brahmans, almost naked and shaved -bald save for a small tuft at the back of the head; the -sellers of madi, a toddy extracted from the cocoanut palm; -the magicians in their shawls, with high stiff red cap, -painted all over with snakes; the humped bullocks that -were employed as beasts of burden, and when not in use -roamed the streets untended; occasionally the hasawa, the -sacred bull of Siva the destroyer, and the rath[#] carrying -the sacred rat of Ganessa. But with familiarity such -scenes lost their charm; and as the months passed away -Desmond felt more and more the gnawing of care at his -heart, the constant sadness of a slave.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Small flat unleavened cakes.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Car.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-eleventh"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the Babu tells the story of King -Vikramâditya; and the discerning reader -may find more than appears on the surface.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Day followed day in dreary sameness. Regularly every -evening Desmond was locked with his eight fellow-prisoners -in the shed, there to spend hours of weariness and -discomfort until morning brought release and the common task. -He had the same rations of rice and ragi,[#] with occasional -doles of more substantial fare. He was carefully kept from -all communication with the other European prisoners, and -as the Bengali was the only man of his set who knew -English, his only opportunities of using his native tongue -occurred in the evening, before he slept.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A cereal.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>His fellow-prisoners spoke Urdu among themselves, and -Desmond found some alleviation of the monotony of his -life in learning the lingua franca of India under the Babu's -tuition. He was encouraged to persevere in the study by -the fact that the Babu proved to be an excellent story-teller, -often beguiling the tedium of wakeful hours in the -shed by relating interminable narratives from the Hindu -mythology, and in particular the exploits of the legendary -hero Vikramâditya. So accomplished was he in this very -Oriental art that it was not uncommon for one or other of -the sentries to listen to him through the opening in the -shed wall, and the head-warder who locked the prisoners' -fetters would himself sometimes squat down at the door -before leaving them at night, and remain an interested -auditor until the blast of a horn warned all in fort and -town that the hour of sleep had come. It was some time -before Desmond was sufficiently familiar with the language -to pick up more than a few words of the stories here and -there, but in three months he found himself able to follow -the narrative with ease.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile he was growing apace. The constant work -in the open air, clad, save, during the rains, in nothing but -a thin dhoti[#], developed his physique and, even in that -hot climate, hardened his muscles. The Babu one day -remarked with envy that he would soon be deemed worthy -of promotion to Angria's own gallivat, whose crew -consisted of picked men of all nationalities. This was an -honour Desmond by no means coveted. As a dockyard -workman, earning his food by the sweat of his brow, he -did not come in contact with Angria, and was indeed less -hardly used than he had been on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>. -But to become a galley-slave seemed to him a different -thing, and the prospect of pulling an oar in the Pirate's -gallivat served to intensify his longing to be free.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A cloth worn round the waist, passed between the legs -and tucked in behind the back.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>For, though he proved so willing and docile in the -dockyard, not a day passed but he pondered the idea of escape. -He seized every opportunity of learning the topography of -the fort and town, being aided in this unwittingly by -Govinda, who employed him more and more often, as he -became familiar with the language, in conveying messages -from one part of the settlement to another. But he was -forced to confess to himself that the chances of escape -were very slight. Gheria was many miles from the nearest -European settlement where he might find refuge. To -escape by sea seemed impossible; if he fled through the -town and got clear of Angria's territory he would almost -certainly fall into the hands of the Peshwa's[#] people, and -although the Peshwa was nominally an ally of the Company, -his subjects--a lawless, turbulent, predatory race--were -not likely to be specially friendly to a solitary English lad. -A half-felt hope that he might be able to reach Suvarndrug, -lately captured by Commodore James, was dashed -by the news that that fort had been handed over by him to -the Marathas. Moreover, such was the rivalry among the -various European nations competing for trade in India -that he was by no means sure of a friendly reception if -he should succeed in gaining a Portuguese or Dutch -settlement. Dark stories were told of Portuguese -dealings with Englishmen, and the Dutch bore no good repute -for their treatment of prisoners.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The prime minister and real ruler of the Maratha kingdom.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was a matter of wonder to Desmond that none of -his companions ever hinted at escape. He could not -imagine that any man could be a slave without feeling -a yearning for liberty; yet these men lived through the -unvarying round, eating, toiling, sleeping, without any -apparent mental revolt. He could only surmise that all -manliness and spirit had been crushed out of them, and -from motives of prudence he forbore to speak of freedom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But one evening, a sultry October evening when the -shed was like an oven, and, bathed in sweat, he felt -utterly limp and depressed, he asked the Babu in English -whether any one had ever escaped out of Angria's clutches. -Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti glanced anxiously around, as -if fearful that the others might understand. But they lay -listless on their charpoys; they knew no English, and -there was nothing in Desmond's tone to quicken their -hopelessness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sahib," said the Bengali; "such escapade, if -successful, is beyond my ken. There have been attempts: -</span><em class="italics">cui bono</em><span>? Nobody is an anna the better. Nay, the -last state of such misguided men is even worse; they -die suffering very ingenious torture."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had been amazed at the Babu's command of -English until he learnt that the man was an omnivorous -reader, and in his leisure at Calcutta had spent many an -hour in poring over such literature as his master's scanty -library afforded, the works of Mr. Samuel Johnson and -Mr. Henry Fielding in particular.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment Desmond said no more, but in the -dead of night, when all were asleep, he leant over to the -Babu's charpoy and gently nudged him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surendra Nath!" he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who calls?" returned the Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Listen. Have you yourself ever thought of escaping?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Peace and quietness, sir. He will hear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Gujarati, sir--Fuzl Khan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But he doesn't understand. And if he did, what then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was the single man, positively unique, who was -spared among six attempting escape last rains."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They did make an attempt, then. Why was he spared?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, sir, deponent knoweth not. The plot was -carried to Angria."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That also is dark as pitch. But Fuzl Khan was -spared, that we know. No man can trust his </span><em class="italics">vis-à-vis</em><span>. -No man is now so bold to discuss such matters."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that why we are all chained up at night?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, sir, is the case. It is since then our limbs are -shackled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond thought over this piece of information. He -had noticed that the Gujarati was left much alone by the -others. They were outwardly civil enough, but they -rarely spoke to him of their own accord, and sometimes -they would break off in a conversation if he appeared -interested. Desmond had put this down to the man's -temper; he was a sullen fellow, with a perpetually -hangdog look, occasionally breaking out in paroxysms of -violence which cost him many a scourging from the -overseer's merciless rattan. But the attitude of his -fellow-prisoner was more easily explained if the Babu's hint was -well founded. They feared him. Yet, if he had indeed -betrayed his comrades, he had gained little by his -treachery. He was no favourite with the officers of the -yard. They kept him hard at work, and seemed to take -a delight in harrying him. More than once, unjustly as -it appeared to Desmond, he had made acquaintance with -the punishment tank. In his dealings with his fellows -he was morose and offensive. A man of great physical -strength, he was a match for any two of his shed -companions save the Biluchis, who, though individually -weaker, retained something of the spirit of their race and -made common cause against him. The rest he bullied, -and none more than the Bengali, whose weaklier -constitution spared him the hard manual work of the yard, -but whose timidity invited aggression.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now that the subject which constantly occupied his -thoughts had been mooted, Desmond found himself more -eagerly striving to find a solution of the problem -presented by the idea of escape. At all hours of the day, -and often when he lay in sleepless discomfort at night, -his active mind recurred to the one absorbing matter: -how to regain his freedom. He had already canvassed -the possibilities of escape by land, only to dismiss the idea -as utterly impracticable; for even could he elude the -vigilance of the sentries he could not pass as a native, -and the perils besetting an Englishman were not confined -to Angria's territory. But how stood the chances of -escape by sea? Could he stow himself on board a grab -or gallivat, and try to swim ashore when near some -friendly port? He put the suggestion from him as absurd. -Supposing he succeeded in stowing himself on an -outgoing vessel, how could he know when he was near a -friendly port without risking almost certain discovery? -Besides, except in such rare cases as the visit of an interloper -like the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, the Pirate did little trade. His -vessels were employed mainly in dashing out on -insufficiently-convoyed merchantmen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the train of thought once started could not but be -followed out. What if he could seize a grab or gallivat -in the harbour? To navigate such a vessel required a -party, men having some knowledge of the sea. How -stood his fellow-prisoners in that respect? The Biluchis, -tall wiry men, were traders, and had several times, he -knew, made the voyage from the Persian Gulf to Surat. -It was on one of these journeys that they had fallen into -Angria's hands. They might have picked up something -of the simpler details of navigation. The Mysoreans, -being up-country men and agriculturists, were not likely -even to have seen the sea until they became slaves of -Angria. The Marathas would be loth to embark; they -belonged to a warrior race which had for centuries lived -by raiding its neighbours; but being forbidden by their -religion to eat or drink at sea they would never make -good sailors. The Babu was a native of Bengal, and -the Bengalis were physically the weakest of the Indian -peoples, constitutionally timid, and unenterprising in -matters demanding physical courage. Desmond smiled -as he thought of how his friend Surendra Nath might -comport himself in a storm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There remained the Gujarati, and of his nautical capacity -Desmond knew nothing. But, mentioning the matter of -seamanship casually to the Babu one day, he learnt that -Fuzl Khan was a khalasi[#] from Cutch. He had in him -a strain of negro blood, derived probably from some -Zanzibari ancestor brought to Cutch as a slave. The -men of the coast of Cutch were the best sailors in India; -and Fuzl Khan himself had spent a considerable portion -of his life at sea.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Sailor.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Thus reflecting on the qualities of his fellow-captives. -Desmond had ruefully to acknowledge that they would -make a poor crew to navigate a grab or gallivat. Yet -he could find no other, for Angria's system of mixing -the nationalities was cunningly devised to prevent any -concerted schemes. If the attempt was to be made at -all, it must be made with the men whom he knew -intimately and with whom he had opportunities of discussing -a plan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was at once faced by the question of the Gujarati's -trustworthiness. If there was any truth in Surendra -Nath's suspicions, he would be quite ready to betray his -fellows; and if looks and manner were any criterion, the -suspicions were amply justified. True, the man had -gained nothing by his former treachery, but that might -not prevent him from repeating it, in the hope that a second -betrayal would compel reward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Desmond was still pondering and puzzling, it -happened one unfortunate day that Govinda the overseer -was carried off within a few hours by what the Babu called -the cramp--the disease now known as cholera. His place -was immediately filled. But his successor was a very -different man. He was not so capable as Govinda, and -endeavoured to make up for his incapacity by greater -brutality and violence. The work of the yard fell off; he -tried to mend matters by harrying the men. The whip -and rattan were in constant use, but the result was less -efficiency than ever, and he sought for the cause -everywhere but in himself. The lives of the captives, bad -enough before, became a continual torment. Desmond -fared no better than the rest. He lost the trifling -privileges he had formerly enjoyed. The new overseer seemed -to take a delight in bullying him. Many a night, when he -returned to the shed, his back was raw where the lash had -cut a livid streak through his thin dhoti. His companions -suffered in common with him, Fuzl Khan more than any. -For days at a time the man was incapacitated from work -by the treatment meted out to him. Desmond felt that if -the Gujarati had indeed purchased his life by betraying his -comrades, he had made a dear bargain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One night, when his eight companions were all asleep, -and nothing could be heard but the regular calls of the -sentries, the beating of tom-toms in the town, and the -howls of jackals prowling on the outskirts, Desmond -gently woke the Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My friend, listen," he whispered, "I have something -to say to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Surendra Nath turned over on his charpoy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak soft, I pray," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My head is on fire," continued Desmond. "I cannot -sleep. I have been thinking. What is life worth to us? -Can anything be worse than our present lot? Do you ever -think of escape?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What good, sir? I have said so before. We are -fettered; what can we do? There is but one thing that -all men in our plight desire; that is death."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense! I do not desire death. This life is hateful, -but while we live there is something to hope for, and -I for one am not content to endure life-long misery. I -mean to escape."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is easy to say, but the doing--that is impossible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How can we tell that unless we try? The men who -tried to escape did not think it impossible. They might -have succeeded--who can say?--if Fuzl Khan had not -betrayed them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And he is still with us. He would betray us again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am not sure of that. See what he has suffered! -To-day his whole body must have writhed with pain. But -for the majum[#] he has smoked and the plentiful ghi[#] we -rubbed him with, he would be moaning now. I think he -will be with us if we can only find out a way. You have -been here longer than I; cannot you help me to form a -plan?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A preparation of hemp.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Clarified butter.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"No, sahib; my brain is like running water. Besides, -I am afraid. If we could get rid of our fetters and escape, -we might have to fight. I cannot fight; I am not a man -of war; I am commercial."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you will help me if I can think of a plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot persuade myself to promise, sahib. It is -impossible. Death is the only deliverer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was impatient of the man's lack of spirit. But -he suffered no sign of his feeling to escape him. He had -grown to have a liking for the Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I shall not give up the idea," he said. "Perhaps -I shall speak of it to you again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Two nights later, in the dark and silent hours, Desmond -reopened the matter. This time the conversation lasted -much longer, and in the course of it the Babu became so -much interested and indeed excited that he forgot his usual -caution, and spoke in a high-pitched tone that woke the -Biluchi on the other side. The man hurled abuse at the -disturber of his repose, and Surendra Nath regained his -caution and relapsed into his usual soft murmur. -Desmond and he were still talking when the light of dawn -stole into the shed; but though neither had slept, they -went about their work during the day with unusual -briskness and lightness of heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, after the prisoners had eaten their supper -in their respective eating-rooms, they squatted against the -outer wall of the shed for a brief rest before being locked -up for the night. The Babu had promised to tell a story. -The approaches to the yard were all guarded by the usual -sentries, and in the distance could be heard the clanking -of the warder's keys as he went from shed to shed -performing his nightly office.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The story! the story!" said one of the Marathas -impatiently. "Why dost thou tarry, Babu?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have eaten, Gousla, and when the belly is full the -brain is sluggish. But the balance is adjusting itself, and -in a little I will begin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Through the further gate came the warder. Desmond -and his companions were the last with whom he had to -deal. His keys jangling, he advanced slowly between two -Marathas armed with matchlocks and two-edged swords.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu had his back against the shed, the others -were grouped about him, and at his left there was a vacant -space. It was growing dusk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hail, worthy jailer!" said Surendra Nath pleasantly. -"I was about to tell the marvellous story of King Bhoya's -golden throne. But I will even now check the stream at -the source. Your time is precious. My comrades must -wait until we get inside."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so, Babu," said the warder gruffly. "Tell thy -tale. Barik Allah![#] you nine are the last of my round. I -will myself wait and hear, for thou hast a ready tongue, -and the learning of a pundit,[#] Babu, and thy stories, after -the day's work, are they not as honey poured on rice?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Praise to Allah!</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Learned man, teacher.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"You honour me beyond my deserts. If you will deign -to be seated!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The warder marched to the vacant spot at the Babu's -side, and squatted down, crossing his legs, his heavy -bunch of keys lying on the skirt of his dhoti. The armed -Marathas stood at a little distance, leaning on their -matchlocks, within hearing of the Babu, and at spots where -they could see any one approaching from either end of the -yard. It would not do for the warder to be found thus by -the officer of the watch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It happened during the reign of the illustrious King -Bhoya," began the Babu; then he caught his breath, -looking strangely nervous. "It is the heat, good jailer," he -said hurriedly; "--of the illustrious King Bhoya, I said, -that a poor ryot[#] named Yajnadatta, digging one day in -his field, found there buried the divine throne of the -incomparable King Vikramâditya. When his eyes were -somewhat recovered from the dazzling vision, and he could -gaze unblinking at the wondrous throne, he beheld that -it was resplendent with thirty-two graven images, and -adorned with a multitude of jewels: rubies and diamonds, -pearls and jasper, crystal and coral and sapphires.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Peasant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Now the news of this wondrous discovery coming to -the ears of King Bhoya, he incontinently caused the throne -to be conveyed to his palace, and had it set in the midst -of his hall of counsel that rose on columns of gold and -silver, of coral and crystal. Then the desire came upon -him to sit on this throne, and calling his wise men, he -bade them choose a moment of good augury, and gave -order to his servitors to make all things ready for his -coronation. Whereupon his people brought curded milk, -sandalwood, flowers, saffron, umbrellas, parasols, divers -tails--tails of oxen, tails of peacocks; arrows, weapons of -war, mirrors and other objects proper to be held by wedded -women--all things, indeed, meet for a solemn festival, with -a well-striped tiger-skin to represent the seven continents -of the earth; nothing was wanting of all the matters -prescribed in the Shastras[#] for the solemn crowning of kings; -and having thus fulfilled their duty, the servitors humbly -acquainted his majesty therewith. Then, when the Guru,[#] -the Purohita,[#] the Brahmans, the wise men, the councillors, -the officers, the soldiers, the chief captain, had entered, the -august King Bhoya drew near to the throne, to the end -that he might be anointed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Holy Books.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Religious teacher.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Hereditary priest of the royal house.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"But lo! the first of the carven figures that surrounded -the throne thus spake and said: 'Hearken, O king. That -prince who is endowed with sovereign qualities; who -shines before all others in wealth, in liberality, in mercy; -who excels in heroism and in goodness; who is drawn -by his nature to deeds of piety; who is full of might and -majesty; that prince alone is worthy to sit upon this -throne--no other, no meaner sovereign, is worthy. Hearken, O -king, to the story of the throne.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on, Babu," said the jailer, as the narrator paused; -"what said the graven image?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'There once lived,'" continued the Babu, "'in the city -of Avanti, a king, Bartrihari by name. Having come to -recognize the vanity of earthly things, this king one day -left his throne and went as a jogi[#] afar into the desert. -His kingdom, being then without a head--for he had no -sons, and his younger brother, the illustrious -Vikramâditya, was travelling in far lands--fell into sore -disorder, so that thieves and evil-doers increased from day -to day.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Ascetic.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"'The wise men in their trouble sought diligently for a -child having the signs of royalty, and in due time, having -found one, Xatrya by name, they gave the kingdom into -his charge. But in that land there dwelt a mighty jin,[#] -Vetâla Agni,[#] who, when he heard of what the wise men -had done, came forth on the night of the same day -the young king had been enthroned and slew him and -departed. And it befell that each time the councillors -found a new king, lo, the Vetâla Agni came forth and -slew him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Evil spirit.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Spirit of fire.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"'Now upon a certain day, when the wise men, in sore -trouble of heart, were met in council, there appeared -among them the illustrious Vikramâditya, newly returned -from long travel, who, when he had heard what was -toward, said: "O ye wise men and faithful, make me -king without ado." And the wise men, seeing that -Vikramâditya was worthy of that dignity, thus spake: "From -this day, O excellency, thou art king of the realm of -Avanti." Having in this fashion become king of Avanti, -Vikramâditya busied himself all that day with the affairs -of his kingdom, tasting the sweets of power; and at the -fall of night he prepared, against the visit of the Vetâla -Agni, great store of heady liquors, all kinds of meat, -fish, bread, confections, rice boiled with milk and honey, -sauces, curded milk, butter refined, sandalwood, bouquets -and garlands, divers sorts of sweet-scented things; and all -these he kept in his palace, and himself remained therein, -reclining in full wakefulness upon his fairest bed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Then into this palace came the Vetâla Agni, sword in -hand, and went about to slay the august Vikramâditya. -But the king said: "Hearken, O Vetâla Agni; seeing -that thy excellency has come for to cause me to perish, -it is not doubtful that thou wilt succeed in thy purpose; -albeit, all these viands thou dost here behold have been -brought together for thy behoof; eat, then, whatsoever -thou dost find worthy; afterwards thou shalt work thy -will." And the Vetâla Agni, having heard these words, -filled himself with this great store of food, and, -marvellously content with the king, said unto him: "Truly I am -content, and well-disposed towards thee, and I give thee -the realm of Avanti; sit thou in the highest place and -taste its joys; but take heed of one thing: every day -shalt thou prepare for me a repast like unto this." With -these words, the Vetâla Agni departed from that spot and -betook him unto his own place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Then for a long space did Vikramâditya diligently -fulfil that command; but by and by growing aweary of -feeding the Vetâla Agni, he sought counsel of the jogi -Trilokanatha, who had his dwelling on the mount of -Kanahakrita. The jogi, perceiving the manifold merits of the -incomparable Vikramâditya, was moved with compassion -towards him, and when he had long meditated and recited -sundry mantras,[#] he thus spake and said: "Hearken, O -king. From the sacred tank of Shakravatar spring -alleys four times seven, as it were branches from one -trunk, to wit, seven to the north, seven to the east, seven -to the west, and seven to the south. Of the seven alleys -springing to the north do thou choose the seventh, and in -the seventh alley the seventh tree from the sacred tank, -and on the seventh branch of the seventh tree thou shalt -find the nest of a bulbul. Within that nest thou shalt -discover a golden key.'"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hymns and prayers.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Babu was now speaking very slowly, and an -observer watching Desmond would have perceived that his -eyes were fixed with a strange look of mingled eagerness -and anxiety upon the story-teller. But no one observed -this; every man in the group was intent upon the story, -hanging upon the lips of the eloquent Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Having obtained the golden key,'" continued the -narrator, "'thou shalt return forthwith to thy palace, -and the same night, when the Vetâla Agni has eaten and -drunk his fill, thou shalt in his presence lay the key upon the -palm of thy left hand, thus----'" (here the Babu quietly -took up a key hanging from the bunch attached to the -warder's girdle, and laid it upon his left palm). "'Then shalt -thou say to the Vetâla: "O illustrious Vetâla, tell me, I -pray thee, what doth this golden key unlock?" Then if -the aspect of the Vetâla be fierce, fear not, for he must -needs reply: such is the virtue of the key; and by his -words thou shalt direct thy course. Verily it is for such a -trial that the gods have endowed thee with wisdom beyond -the common lot of men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Vikramâditya performed in all points the jogi's -bidding; and having in the presence of the Vetâla laid -the golden key upon the palm of his hand, a voice within -bade him ask the question: "O Vetâla, what art -thou apt to do? What knowest thou?" And the Vetâla -answered: "All that I have in my mind, that I am apt -to perform. I know all things." And the king said: -"Speak, then; what is the number of my years?" And -the Vetâla answered: "The years of thy life are a -hundred." Then said the king: "I am troubled because in -the tale of my years there are two gaps; grant me, then, -one year in excess of a hundred, or from the -hundred take one." And the Vetâla answered: "O king, -thou art in the highest degree good, liberal, merciful, -just, lord of thyself, and honoured of gods and -Brahmans; the measure of the days that are ordained to fill -thy life is full; to add anything thereto, to take anything -therefrom, are alike impossible." Having heard these -words the king was satisfied, and the Vetâla departed -unto his own place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Upon the night following the king prepared no feast -against the coming of the Vetâla, but girt himself for -fight. The Vetâla came, and seeing nothing in readiness -for the repast, but, on the contrary, all things requisite -to a combat, he waxed wroth and said: "O wicked -and perverse king, why hast thou made ready nothing -for my pleasure this night?" And the king answered: -"Since thou canst neither add to my length of years, -nor take anything therefrom, why should I make ready -a repast for thee continually and without profit?" The -Vetâla made answer: "Ho!--'tis thus that thou speakest! -Now, truly, come fight with me; this night will I devour -thee."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'At these words the king rose up in wrath to smite -the Vetâla, and held him in swift and dexterous combat -for a brief space. And the Vetâla, having thus made -proof of the might and heroism of the king, and being -satisfied, spake and said: "O king, thou art mighty -indeed; I am content with thy valour; now, then, ask -me what thou wilt." And the king answered: "Seeing -that thou art well-disposed towards me, grant me this -grace, that when I shall call thee, thou wilt in that same -instant stand at my side." And the Vetâla, having granted -this grace to the king, departed unto his own place.'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu waved his hands as a sign that the story -was ended. He was damp with perspiration, and in his -glance at Desmond there was a kind of furtive appeal -for approval.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thou speakest well, Babu," said the warder. "But -what befell King Bhoya when the graven image had thus -ended his saying?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, good jailer, is another story, and if you please -to hear it another night I will do my poor best to satisfy -you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, the hour is late." The warder rose to his feet -and resumed his official gruffness. "Come, rise; it is -time I locked your fetters; and, in good sooth, mine is no -golden key."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He chuckled as he watched the prisoners file one by one -into the shed. Following them, he quickly locked each in -turn to his staple in the wall and went out, bolting and -double locking the door behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You did well, my friend," whispered Desmond in -English to the Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My heart flutters like the wings of a bulbul," answered -the Babu; "but I am content, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But say, Surendra Nath," remarked one of the Maratha -captives, "last time you told us that story you said nothing -of the golden key."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah!" replied the Babu, "you are thinking of the story -told by the second graven image in King Vikramâditya's -throne. I will tell you that to-morrow."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twelfth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWELFTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero is offered freedom at the -price of honour; and Mr. Diggle finds -that he has no monopoly of quotations.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Next morning, when Desmond left the shed with his -fellow-prisoners, he took with him, secreted in a fold of his -dhoti, a small piece of clay. It had been given him -overnight by the Babu. An hour or two later, happening to be -for a moment alone in the tool-shop, he took out the clay -and examined it carefully. It was a moment for which he -had waited and longed with feverish impatience. The clay -was a thin strip, oval in shape, and slightly curved. In the -middle of it was the impression, faint but clear, of a key. A -footstep approaching, he concealed the clay again in his -garment, and, when a workman entered, was busily plying -a chisel upon a deal plank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before he left the tool-shop, he secreted with the clay a -scrap of steel and a small file. That day, and for several -days after, whenever chance gave him a minute or two -apart from his fellow-workmen, he employed the precious -moments in diligently filing the steel to the pattern on the -clay. It was slow work: all too tedious for his eager -thought. But he worked at his secret task with unfailing -patience, and at the week's end had filed the steel to the -likeness of the wards of a key.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night, when his "co-mates in exile" were asleep, -he gently inserted the steel in the lock of his ankle-band -He tried to turn it. It stuck fast; the wards did not fit. -He was not surprised. Before he made the experiment he -had felt that it would fail; the key was indeed a clumsy, -ill-shapen instrument. But next day he began to work on -another piece of steel, and on this he spent every spare -minute he could snatch. This time he found himself able -to work faster. Night and morning he looked searchingly -at the key on the warder's bunch, and afterwards tried to -cut the steel to the pattern that was now, as it were, stamped -upon his brain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He wished he could test his second model in the morning -light before the warder came, and correct it then. But -to do so would involve discovery by his fellow-captives; -the time to take them into his confidence was not yet. He -had perforce to wait till dead of night before he could tell -whether the changes, more and more delicate and minute, -made upon his key during the day were effective. And the -Babu was fretful; having done his part, admirably, as -Desmond told him, in working the key into his story, he -seemed to expect that the rest would be easy, and did not -make account of the long labour of the file.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length a night came when, inserting the key in the -lock, Desmond felt it turn easily. Success at last! As -he heard the click, he felt an extraordinary sense of -elation. Quietly unclasping the fetter, he removed it from -his ankle and stood free. If it could be called free--to be -shut up in a locked and barred shed in the heart of one of -the strongest fortresses in Hindustan! But at least his -limbs were at liberty. What a world of difference there -was between that and his former state!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Should he inform the Babu? He felt tempted to do so, -for it was to Surendra Nath's ingenuity in interpolating -the incident of the key into a well-known story that he -owed the clay pattern of the warder's key. But Surendra -Nath was excitable; he was quite capable of uttering a -yell of delight that would waken the other men and force -a premature disclosure. Desmond decided to wait for a -quiet moment next day before telling the Babu of his -success. So he replaced his ankle-band, locked the catch, -and lay down to the soundest and most refreshing sleep he -had enjoyed for many a night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had only just reached the workshop next morning -when a peon came with a message that Angria Rao[#] -required his instant attendance at the palace. He began to -quake in spite of himself. Could the prince have -discovered already that the lock of his fetters had been -tampered with? Desmond could scarcely believe it. He had -made his first test in complete darkness; nothing had -broken the silence save the one momentary click; and the -warder, when he unloosed him, had not examined the lock. -What if he were searched and the precious key were found -upon him? It was carefully hidden in a fold of his dhoti. -There was no opportunity of finding another hiding-place -for it; he must go as he was and trust that suspicion had -not been aroused. But it was with a galloping pulse that -he followed the peon out of the dockyard, within the walls -of the fort, and into the hall where he had had his first -interview with the Pirate.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A chief or prince.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>His uneasiness was hardly allayed when he saw that -Angria was in company with Diggle. Both were squatting -on the carpeted dais; no other person was in the room. -Having ushered him in, the peon withdrew, and Desmond -was alone with the two men he had most cause to fear. -Diggle was smiling, Angria's eyes were gleaming, his -mobile lips working as with impatience, if not anxiety.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Pirate spoke quickly, imperiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have learnt our tongue, Firangi[#] boy?" he said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Originally applied by the natives to the Portuguese, -then to any European.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I have done my best, huzur," replied Desmond in Urdu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is well. Now hearken to what I say. You have -pleased me; my jamadar[#] speaks well of you; but you -are my slave, and, if I will it, you will always be my slave. -You would earn your freedom?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Lieutenant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I am in your august hands, huzur," said Desmond -diplomatically.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may earn your freedom in one way," continued -Angria in the same rapid impatient tone. "My scouts -report that an English fleet has passed up the coast -towards Bombay. My spies tell me that in Bombay a large -force is collected under the command of that soor ka batcha[#] -Clive. But I cannot learn the purpose of this armament. -The dogs may think, having taken my fortress of Suvarndrug, -to come and attack me here. Or they may intend -to proceed against the French at Hyderabad. It is not -convenient for me to remain in this uncertainty. You will -go to Bombay and learn these things of which I am in -ignorance and come again and tell me. I will then set -you free."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Son of a pig.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I cannot do it, huzur."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's reply came without a moment's hesitation. -To act as a spy upon his own countrymen--how could -Angria imagine that an English boy would ever consent -to win his freedom on such terms? His simple words -roused the Maratha to fury. He sprang to his feet and -angrily addressed Diggle, who had also risen, and stood -at his side still smiling. Diggle replied to his vehement -words in a tone too low for Desmond to catch what he -said. Angria turned to the boy again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not only set you free; I will give you half a -lakh of rupees; you shall have a place at my court, or, -if you please, I will recommend you to another prince, in -whose service you may rise to wealth and honour. If you -refuse, I will kill you; no, I will not kill you, for death -is sweet to a slave; I will inflict on you the tortures I -reserve for those who provoke my anger: you shall lose -your ears, your nose, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle again interposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pardon me, bhai[#]," Desmond heard him say, "that is -hardly the way to deal with a boy of my nation. If you -will deign to leave him to me, I think that in a little I -shall find means to overcome his hesitation."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Brother.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"But even then, how can I trust the boy? He may -give his word to escape me; then betray me to his -countrymen. I have no faith in the Firangi."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Believe me, if he gives his word he will keep it. That -is the way with us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not your way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am no longer of them," said Diggle with -consummate aplomb. "Dismiss him now; I will do my best -with him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you must hasten. I give you three days: if -within that time he has not consented, I will do to him -all that I have said, and more also."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not require three days to make up my mind," -said Desmond quietly. "I cannot do what----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, you young fool!" cried Diggle angrily in -English. Turning to the Pirate he added: "The boy is as -stiff-necked as a pig; but even a pig can be led if you ring -his snout. I beg you leave him to me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take him away!" exclaimed Angria, clapping his -hands. Two attendants came in answer to his summons, -and Desmond was led off and escorted by them to his -workshop.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Angry and disgusted as he was with both the Maratha -and Diggle, he was still more anxious at this unexpected -turn in his affairs. He had but three days! If he had not -escaped before the fourth day dawned, his fate would be -the most terrible that could befall a living creature. The -tender mercies of the wicked are cruel! He had seen, -among the prisoners, some of the victims of Angria's -cruelty; they had suffered tortures too terrible to be -named, and dragged out a life of unutterable degradation -and misery, longing for death as a blissful end. With -his quick imagination he already felt the hands of the -torturers upon him; and for all the self-control which -his life in Gheria had induced, he was for some moments -so wholly possessed by terror that he could scarcely endure -the consciousness of existence.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when the first tremors were past, and he began to -go about his usual tasks, and was able to think calmly, -not for an instant did he waver in his resolve. Betray his -countrymen! It was not to be thought of. Give his word -to Angria and then forswear himself! Ah! Even Diggle -knew that he would not do that. Freedom, wealth, a -high place in some prince's court! He would buy none of -them at the price of his honour. Diggle was false, -unspeakably base; let him do Angria's work if he would; -Desmond Burke would never stoop to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He scarcely argued the matter explicitly with himself: -it was settled in Angria's presence by his instinctive -repulsion. But it was not in a boy like Desmond, young, -strong, high-spirited, tamely to fold his hands before -adverse fate. He had three days: it would go hard with -him if he did not make good use of them. He felt a glow -of thankfulness that the first step, and that a difficult one, -had been taken, providentially as it seemed, the very night -before this crisis in his fate. His future plan had already -outlined itself; it was necessary first to gain over his -companions in captivity; that done, he hoped within the short -period allowed him to break prison and turn his back for -ever on this place of horror.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It seemed to his eager impatience that that day would -never end. It was November, and the beginning of the -cold season, and the work of the dockyard, being urgent, -was carried on all day without the usual break during the -hot middle hours, so that he found no opportunity of -consulting his fellows. Further, the foremen of the yard -were specially active. The Pirate had been for some time -fearful lest the capture of Suvarndrug should prove to be -the prelude to an assault upon his stronger fort and -headquarters at Gheria, and to meet the danger he had had nine -new vessels laid down. Three of them had been finished, -but the work had been much interrupted by the rains, and -the delay in the completion of the remaining six had -irritated him. He had visited his displeasure upon the -foremen. After his interview with Desmond he summoned -them to his presence and threatened them with such dire -punishment if the work was not more rapidly pushed or -that they had used the lash more furiously and with even less -discrimination than ever. Consequently when Desmond -met his companions in the shed at night he found them all -in desperate indignation and rage. He had seen nothing -more of Diggle; he must strike while the iron was hot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When they were locked in, and all was quiet outside, -the prisoners gave vent, each in his own way, to their -feelings. For a time Desmond listened, taking no part in -their lamentation and cursing. But when the tide of -impotent fury ebbed, and there was a lull, he said quietly:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are my brothers dogs that, suffering these things, they -merely whine?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The quiet level tones, so strangely contrasting with the -tones of fierceness and hate that were still ringing in the -ears of the unhappy prisoners, had an extraordinary effect. -There was dead silence in the shed: it seemed that every -man was afraid to speak. Then one of the Marathas said -in a whisper:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, sahib?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do I mean? Surely it must be clear to any -man. Have we not sat long enough on the carpet of -patience?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Again the silence remained for a space unbroken.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You, Gulam Mahomed," continued Desmond, addressing -one of the Biluchis whom he considered the -boldest--"have you never thought of escape?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Allah knows!" said the man in an undertone. "But -he knows that I remember what happened a year ago. -Fuzl Khan can tell the sahib something about that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A fierce cry broke from the Gujarati, who had been -moaning upon his charpoy in anguish from the lashings he -had undergone that day. Desmond heard him spring up; -but if he had meant to attack the Biluchi, the clashing of -his fetters reminded him of his helplessness. He cursed -the man, demanding what he meant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing," returned Gulam Mahomed. "But you -were the only man, Allah knows, who escaped the executioner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pig, and son of a pig!" cried Fuzl Khan, "I knew -nothing of the plot. If any man says I did he lies. They -did it without me; some evil jin must have heard their -whisperings. They failed. They were swine of Canarese."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do not let us quarrel," said Desmond. "We are all -brothers in misfortune; we ought to be as close-knit as -the strands of a rope. Here is our brother Fuzl Khan, -the only man of his gang who did not try to escape, and -see how he is treated! Could he be worse misused? -Would not death be a boon? Is it not so, Fuzl Khan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gujarati assented with a passionate cry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As for the rest of us, it is only a matter of time. I am -the youngest of you, and not the hardest worked, yet I -feel that the strain of our toil is wearing me out. What -must it be with you? You are dying slowly. If we make -an attempt to escape and fail we shall die quickly, that is -all the difference. What is to be is written, is it not so, -Shaik Abdullah?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Even so, sahib," replied the second Biluchi, "it is -written. Who can escape his fate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what do you say, Surendra Nath?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The key, sahib," whispered the Babu in English; -"what of the key?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Speak in Urdu, Babu," said Desmond quickly. "Don't -agree at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Surendra Nath was quick-witted; he perceived that -Desmond did not wish the others to suspect that there had -been any confidences between them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am a coward, the sahib knows," he said in Urdu. -"I could not give blows; I should die. It was told us -to-day that the English are about to attack this fort. They -will set us free; we need run no risks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wah!" exclaimed one of the Mysoreans. "If the -Firangi get into the fort we shall all be murdered."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is truth," said a Maratha. "The Rao would -have our throats cut at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu groaned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see, Surendra Nath, it is useless to wait in the -hope of help from my countrymen," said Desmond. "If -there is fighting to be done, we can do all that is needed: -is it not so, my brothers? As for you, Babu, if you would -sooner die without--well, there is nothing to prevent you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the sahib does not wish me to fight, it is well. But -has the sahib a plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I have a plan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused; there was a sound of hard breathing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell it us," said the Gujarati eagerly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are one of us, Fuzl Khan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The plan! the plan! Is not my back mangled? Have -I not endured the tank? Is not freedom sweet to me as -to another? The plan, sahib! I swear, I Fuzl Khan, to -be true to you and all; only tell me the plan."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall have the plan in good time. First, I have a -thing to say. When a battle is to be fought, no soldier -fights only for himself, doing that which seems good to -him alone. He looks to his captain for orders. Otherwise -mistakes would be made, and all effort would be -wasted. We must have a captain: who is he to be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yourself, sahib," said the Gujarati at once. "You -have spoken; you have the plan; we take you as leader."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You hear what Fuzl Khan says. Do you all agree?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The others assented eagerly. Then Desmond told his -wondering hearers the secret of the key, and during several -hours of that quiet night he discussed with them in whispers -the details of the scheme which he had worked out. At -intervals the sentry passed and flashed his light through -the opening in the wall; but at these moments every man -was lying motionless upon his charpoy, and not a sound -was audible save a snore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day when Desmond, having finished his mid-day -meal of rice and mangoes, had returned to his workshop, -Diggle sauntered in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ah, my young friend," he said in his quiet voice and -with his usual smile, "doubtless you have expected a -visit from me. Night brings counsel. I did not visit -you yesterday, thinking that after sleeping over the -amiable and generous proposition made to you by my -friend Angria you would view it in another light. I trust -that during the nocturnal hours you have come to perceive -the advantages of choosing the discreet part. Let us -reason together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There were several natives with them in the workshop, -but none of them understood English, and the two -Englishmen could talk at ease.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Reason!" said Desmond in reply to Diggle's last -sentence. "If you are going to talk of what your pirate -friend spoke of yesterday, it is mere waste of time. I -shall never agree."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Words, my young friend, mere words! You will -be one of us yet. You will never have such a chance -again. Why, in a few years you will be able to return -to England, if you will, a rich man, a very nawab.[#] My -friend Angria has his faults; 'nemo est sine culpa': but -he is at least generous. An instance! The man who -took the chief part in the capture of the Dutchman -two years ago--what is he now? A naib,[#] a man of -wealth, of high repute at the Nizam's court. There -is no reason why you should not follow so worthy an -example; cut out an Indiaman or two, and Desmond -Burke may, if he will, convey a shipload of precious -things to the shores of Albion, and enjoy his leisured -dignity on a landed estate of his own. He shall drive -a coach while his oaf of a brother perspires behind a -plough."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Governor.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Deputy-governor.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond was silent. Diggle watched him keenly, and -after a slight pause continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This is no great thing that is asked of you. You -sail on one of Angria's grabs; you are set upon the shore; -you enter Bombay with a likely story of escape from -the fortress of the Pirate; you are a hero, the boon fellow -of the men, the pet of the ladies--for there are ladies in -Bombay, 'forma praestante puellae.' In a week you -know everything, all the purposes that Angria's spies -have failed to discover. One day you disappear; the -ladies wail and tear their hair, a tiger has eaten you! in -a week you will be forgotten. But you are back in Angria's -fortress, no longer a slave, down-trodden and despised; -but a free man, a rich man, a potentate to be. Is it not -worth thinking of, my young friend, especially when you -remember the other side of the picture? It is a dark -side; an unpleasant side; even, let me confess, horrible: -I prefer to keep it to the wall."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He waved his gloved hand deprecatingly, watching -Desmond with the same intentness. The boy was dumb; -he might also have been deaf. Diggle drew from his -fob an elaborately chased snuff-box and took a pinch of -fine rappee, Desmond mechanically noticing that the box -bore ornamentation of Dutch design.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If I were not your friend," continued Diggle, "I -might say that your attitude is one of sheer obstinacy. -Why not trust us? You see we trust you. I stand -pledged for you with Angria; but I flatter myself I know -a man when I see one: 'si fractus illabitur orbis'--you -have already shown your mettle. Of course I understand -your scruples; I was young myself once; I know -the generous impulses that rule the hearts of youth. But -this is a matter that must be decided, not by feeling, but -by hard fact and cold reason. Who benefits by your -scruples? A set of hard-living money-grubbers in -Bombay who fatten on the oppression of the ryot, who tithe -mint and anice and cummin, who hoard up treasure which -they will take back with their jaundiced livers to England, -there to become pests to society with their splenetic and -domineering tempers. What's the Company to you, -or you to the Company? Why, Governor Pitt was an -interloper; and your own father: yes, he was an -interloper, and an interloper of the best."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But not a pirate," said Desmond hotly, his scornful -silence yielding at last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, true," said Diggle suavely; "but in the Indies, -you see, we don't draw fine distinctions. We are all -buccaneers in a sense; some with the sword, others the -ledger. Throw in your lot frankly with me; I will stand -your friend----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are wasting your breath and your eloquence," -interrupted Desmond firmly, "and even if I were tempted -to agree, as I never could be, I should remember who -is talking to me." Then he added with a whimsical -smile, "Come, Mr. Diggle, you are fond of quotations; -I am not; but there's one I remember--'I fear the Greeks, -even----'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You young hound!" cried Diggle, his sallow face -becoming purple. His anger, it seemed to Desmond -afterwards reflecting on it, was out of proportion to the -cause of offence. "You talk of my eloquence. By -Heaven, when I see you again I will use it otherwise. You -shall hear something of how Angria wreaks his vengeance; -you shall have a foretaste of the sweets in store for an -obstinate recalcitrant pigheaded fool!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He strode away, leaving Desmond a prey to the gloomiest -anticipations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening, when the prisoners were squatting outside -the shed for the usual hour of talk before being locked -up for the night, a new feature was added to the -entertainment. One of the Marathas had somehow possessed -himself of a tom-tom, and proved himself an excellent -performer on that weird instrument. While he tapped -its sides, his fellow Maratha, in a strange hard tuneless -voice, chanted a song, repeating its single stanza again -and again without apparently wearying his hearers, and -clapping his hands to mark the time. It was a song -about a banya[#] with a beautiful young daughter-in-law, -whom he appointed to deal out the daily handful of flour -expected as alms by every beggar who passed his door. -Her hands being much smaller than his own, he pleased -himself with the idea that, without losing his reputation -for charity, he would give away through her much less -grain than if he himself performed the charitable office. -But it turned out bad thrift, for so beautiful was she that -she attracted to the door not only the genuine beggars, -but also many, both young and old, who had disguised -themselves in mendicant rags for the mere pleasure of -beholding her and getting from her a smile and a gentle -word. It was a popular song, and the warder himself -was tempted to stay and listen until, the hour for locking -up being past, he at last recollected his duty and bundled -the prisoners into the shed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hindu merchant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Sing inside if you must," he said, "but not too loud, -lest the overseer come with the bamboo."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Inside the shed, reclining on their charpoys, the men -continued their performance, changing their song, though -not, as it seemed to Desmond, the tune. He, however, -was perhaps not sufficiently attentive to the monotonous -strains, for, as soon as the warder had left the yard, he -had unlocked his fetters and begun to work in the -darkness. Poised on one of the rafters, he held on with one -hand to a joist, and with the other plied a small saw, well -greased with ghi. The sound of the slow careful -movements of the tool was completely drowned by the singing -and the hollow rat-a-pan of the tom-tom. Beneath him -stood the Babu, extending his dhoti like an apron, and -catching in it the falling shower of sawdust.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the figure on the rafter gave a low whistle. -Through the window he had seen the dim form of the -sentry outside approach the space lighted by the rays -from the lantern, which he had laid down at a corner of -the shed. Before the soldier had time to lift it and throw -a beam into the shed (which he did as much from curiosity -to see the untiring performers as in the exercise of his -duty) Desmond had swung down from his perch and -stretched himself upon the nearest charpoy. The Babu -meanwhile had darted with his folded dhoti to the darkest -corner. When the sentry peered in, the two performing -Marathas were sitting up; the rest were lying prone, to -all appearance soothed to sleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Verily thou wilt rap a hole in the tom-tom," said -the sentry with a grin. "Better save a little of it for -to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sleep is far from my eyes," replied the man. "My -comrades are all at rest; if it does not offend thee----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. Tap till it burst, for me. But without sleep -the work will be hard in the morning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went away. Instantly the two figures were again -upon their feet, and the sawing recommenced. For three -hours the work continued, interrupted at intervals by the -visits of the sentry. Midnight was past before Desmond, -with cramped limbs and aching head, gave the word for -the song and accompaniment to cease, and the shed was -in silence.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-thirteenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Mr. Diggle illustrates his -argument; and there are strange doings in -Gheria harbour.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The morning of the third day dawned--the last of the -three allowed Desmond for making up his mind. When -the other prisoners were loosed from their fetters and -marched off under guard to their usual work, he alone -was left. Evidently he was to be kept in confinement -with a view to quickening his resolution. Some hours -passed. About midday he heard footsteps approaching -the shed. The door was opened, and in the entrance -Diggle appeared.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will excuse me," he said with a sniff, "if I remain -on the threshold of your apartment. It is, I fear, but -imperfectly aired."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pulled a charpoy to the door, and sat down upon it, -as much outside as within. Taking out his snuff-box, he -tapped it, took a pinch, savoured it, and added:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will find the apartment prepared for you in my -friend Angria's palace somewhat sweeter than this your -present abode--somewhat more commodious also."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond, reclining at a distance, looked his enemy -calmly and steadily in the face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you have come, Mr. Diggle," he said, "merely to -repeat what you said yesterday, let me say at once that -it is waste of breath. I have not changed my mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, not to repeat, my young friend. 'Crambe -repetita'--you know the phrase? Yesterday I appealed, in -what I had to say, to your reason; either my appeal, or -your reason, was at fault. To-day I have another purpose. -'Tis pity to come down to a lower plane; to appeal to the -more ignoble part of man; but since you have not yet cut -your wisdom teeth I must e'en accommodate myself. -Angria is my friend; but there are moments, look you, -when the bonds of our friendship are put to a heavy strain. -At those moments Angria is perhaps most himself, and I, -perhaps, am most myself; which might prove to a philosopher -that there is a radical antagonism between the -Oriental and the Occidental character. Since my picture -of the brighter side has failed to impress you, I propose -to show you the other side--such is the sincerity of my -desire for your welfare. And 'tis no empty picture--'inanis -imago,' as Ovid might say--no, 'tis sheer reality, -speaking, terrible."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned and beckoned. In a moment Desmond heard -the clank of chains, and by and by, at the entrance of the -shed, stood a figure at sight of whom his blood ran cold. -It was the bent, lean, broken figure of a Hindu, his thin -bare legs weighted with heavy irons. Ears, nose, upper -lip were gone; his eyes were lit with the glare of madness; -the parched skin of his hollow cheeks was drawn back, -disclosing a grinning mouth and yellow teeth. His arms -and legs were like sticks; both hands had lost their thumbs; -his feet were twisted; straggling wisps of grey hair escaped -from his turban. Standing there beside Diggle, he began -to mop and mow, uttering incomprehensible gibberish.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle waved him away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That, my dear boy, illustrates the darker side of -Angria's character--the side which forbids me to call -Angria unreservedly my friend. A year ago that man was -as straight as you; he had all his organs and dimensions; -he was rich, and of importance in his little world. -To-day--but you have seen him: it boots not to attempt in -words to say what the living image has already said. -And within twenty-four hours, unless you come to a -better mind, even as that man is, so will you be."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He rose slowly to his feet, bending upon Desmond a -look of mournful interest and compassion. Desmond had -stood all but transfixed with horror. But as Diggle now -prepared to leave him, the boy flushed hot; his fists -clenched; his eyes flashed with indignation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You fiend!" was all he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle smiled, and sauntered carelessly away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That night, when the prisoners were brought as usual -to the shed, and warder and sentries were out of earshot, -Desmond told them what he had seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be to-night, my brothers," he said in -conclusion. "We have no longer time. Before sunrise -to-morrow we must be out of this evil place. We must -work, work, for life and liberty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This night again the singer sang untiringly, the -tom-tom accompanying him with its weird hollow notes. And -in the blackness, Desmond worked as he had never worked -before, plying his saw hour after hour, never forgetting his -caution, running no risks when he had warning of the -sentry's approach. And hour after hour the shower of -sawdust fell noiselessly into the Babu's outspread dhoti. -Then suddenly the beating of the tom-tom ceased, the -singer's voice died away on a lingering wail, and the -silence of the night was unbroken save by the melancholy -howl of a distant jackal, and the call of sentry to sentry as -at intervals they went their rounds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At midnight the guard was relieved. The new-comer--a -tall, thin, lanky Maratha--arriving at Desmond's shed, put -his head in at the little window-space, and flashed his -lantern from left to right more carefully than the man -whom he had just replaced. The nine forms lay flat or -curled up on their charpoys--all was well.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coming back an hour later, he fancied he heard a slight -sound within the shed. He went to the window and peered -in, flashing his lantern as before from left to right. But as -he did so, he felt upon his throat a grip as of steel. He -struggled to free himself; his cry was stifled ere it was -uttered; his matchlock fell with a clatter to the ground. -He was like a child in the hands of his captor, and when -the Gujarati in a fierce low whisper said to him: "Yield, -hound, or I choke you!" his struggles ceased and he stood -trembling in sweat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But now came the sentries' call, passed from man to man -around the circuit of the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Answer the call!" whispered the Gujarati, with a -significant squeeze of the man's windpipe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When his turn arrived, the sentry took up the word, but -it was a thin quavering call that barely reached the next -man a hundred yards away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While this brief struggle had been going on, a light -figure within the shed had mounted to the rafters and, -gently feeling for and twisting round a couple of wooden -pins, handed down to his companions below a section of -the roof some two feet square, which had been kept in -its place only by these temporary supports. The wood -was placed silently on the floor. Then the figure above -crawled out upon the roof, and let himself down by the -aid of a rope held by the two Biluchis within. It was a -pitch-dark night; nothing broke the blackness save the -scattered points of light from the sentries' lanterns. -Stepping to the side of the half-garrotted Maratha, who was -leaning passively against the shed, the sinewy hand of the -Gujarati still pressed upon his windpipe, Desmond thrust -a gag into his mouth and with quick deft movements bound -his hands. Now he had cause to thank the destiny that -had made him Bulger's shipmate; he had learnt from -Bulger how to tie a sailor's knot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scarcely had he bound the sentry's hands when he was -joined by one of his fellow-prisoners, and soon seven of -them stood with him in the shadow of the shed. The last -man, the Gujarati, had held the rope while the Babu -descended. There was no one left to hold the rope for -him, but he swung himself up to the roof and climbed -down on the shoulders of one of the Biluchis. Meanwhile -the sentry, whose lantern had been extinguished and from -the folds of whose garments his flint and tinder-box had -been taken, had now been completely trussed up, and lay -helpless and perforce silent against the wall of the shed. -From the time when the hapless man first felt the grip of -the Gujarati upon his throat scarcely five minutes had -elapsed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now the party of nine moved in single file, swiftly and -silently on their bare feet, under the wall of the fort towards -the north-east bastion, gliding like phantoms in the gloom. -Each man bore his burden: the Babu carried the dark -lantern; one of the Marathas the coil of rope; the other -the sentry's matchlock and ammunition; several had -small bundles containing food, secreted during the past -three days from their rations.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly the leader stopped. They had reached the -foot of the narrow flight of steps leading up into the bastion. -Just above them was a sentinel. The pause was but -for a moment. The plan of action had been thought -out and discussed. On hands and knees the Gujarati -crept up the steps; at his heels followed Desmond in -equal stealth and silence. At the top, hardly distinguishable -from the blackness of the sky, the sentinel was -leaning against the parapet, looking out to sea. Many -a night had he held that post, and seen the stars, and -listened to the rustle of the surf; many a night he had -heard the call of the sentry next below, and passed it -to the man on the bastion beyond; but never a night -had he seen anything but the stars and the dim forms of -vessels in the harbour, heard anything but the hourly -call of his mates and the eternal voice of the sea. He -was listless, bemused. What was it, then, that made -him suddenly spring erect? What gave him that strange -uneasiness? He had heard nothing, seen nothing, yet -he faced round, and stood at the head of the steps with -his back to the sea. The figures prone below him felt that -he was looking towards them. They held their breath. -Both were on the topmost step but one; only a narrow -space separated them from the sentinel; they could hear -the movement of his jaws as he chewed his pan supari.[#] -Thus a few moments passed. Desmond's pulse beat in a -fever of impatience; every second was precious. Then the -sentinel moved; his uneasiness seemed to be allayed; he -began to hum a Maratha camp song, and, half turning, -glanced once more out to sea.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Nut of the areca palm wrapped in the leaf of the betel -plant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The moment was come. Silently Fuzl Khan rose to -his feet; he sprang forward with the lightness, the speed, -the deadly certainty of a Thug[#]; his hand was on the -man's throat. Desmond, close behind, had a gag ready, -but there was no need to use it. In the open the Gujarati -could exert his strength more freely than through the -narrow window of the shed. Almost before Desmond -reached his side the sentinel was dead. In that desperate -situation there was no time to expostulate. While the -Gujarati laid the hapless man gently beside the gun that -peeped through the embrasure of the parapet, Desmond -picked up the sentinel's matchlock, ran softly back, and -summoned his companions. They came silently up the -steps. To fasten the rope securely to the gun-carriage -was the work of a few instants; then the Gujarati -mounted the parapet, and, swarming down the rope, -sank into the darkness. One by one the men followed; -it came to the Babu's turn. Trembling with excitement -and fear he shrank back.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Name of a class of hereditary stranglers.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I am afraid, sahib," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Without hesitation Desmond drew up the rope and -looped the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Get into the loop," he whispered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu trembled but obeyed, and, assisting him to -climb the parapet, Desmond lowered him slowly to the -foot of the wall. Then he himself descended last of all, -and on the rocks below the little group was complete. -They were free! But the most difficult part of their -enterprise was yet to come. Behind them was the curtain of -the fort; before them a short, shelving rocky beach and -the open sea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No time was wasted. Walking two by two for mutual -support over the rough ground, the party set off towards -the jetty. They kept as close as possible to the wall, so -that they would not be seen if a sentinel should happen to -look over the parapet; and being barefooted, the slight -sound they might make would be inaudible through the -never-ceasing swish of the surf. Their feet were cut by -the sharp edges of the rocks; many a bruise they got; but -they kept on their silent way without a murmur.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Reaching the angle of the wall, they had now perforce -to leave its shelter, for their course led past the outskirts -of the native town across a comparatively open space. -Fortunately the night was very dark, and here and there -on the shore were boats and small huts which afforded -some cover. The tide was on the ebb; and, when they at -length struck the jetty, it was at a point some twenty -yards from its shoreward end. Groping beneath it they -halted for a moment, then the two Marathas separated -themselves from the rest, and, with a whispered word of -farewell, disappeared like shadows into the blackness. -The sea was not for them; they would take their chance -on land.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>From a point some distance beyond the end of the jetty -shone a faint glimmer of light. Desmond silently drew -the Gujarati's attention to it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are gambling," whispered the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So much the better for our chances," thought -Desmond. Turning to the Babu he whispered: "Now, -Surendra Nath, you know what to do?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Placing their bundles in the woodwork supporting the -jetty, five members of the party--the Biluchis, the -Mysoreans, and the Babu--stole away in the darkness. Desmond -and the Gujarati were left alone. The Babu placed himself -near the end of the jetty to keep guard. The two Mysoreans -struck off thence obliquely for a few yards until they -came to a rude open shed in which the Pirate's carpenters -were wont to work during the rains. From a heap of -shavings they drew a small but heavy barrel. Carrying -this between them they made their way with some -difficulty back towards the jetty, where they rejoined the -Babu. Meanwhile the Biluchis had returned some -distance along the path by which they had come from the -fort, then turned off to the left, and came to a place where -a number of small boats were drawn up just above high -water. The boats were the ordinary tonis[#] of the coast, -each propelled by short scull paddles. Moving quickly -but with great caution the Biluchis collected the paddles -from all these boats save one, carried them noiselessly -down to the water's edge, waded a few yards into the -surf, and setting down their burdens, pushed them gently -seawards. They then returned to the one boat which they -had not robbed of its paddle, and lay down beside it, -apparently waiting.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Small boats cut out of the solid tree, used for passing -between the shore and larger vessels.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>By and by they were joined by the Mysoreans. The -four men lifted the toni, and carrying it down to the -jetty, quietly launched it under the shadow of the -woodwork. A few yards away the Babu sat upon the barrel. -This was lifted on board, and one of the men, tearing a -long strip from his dhoti, muffled the single paddle. Then -all five men squatted at the water-side, awaiting with true -Oriental patience the signal for further action.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not one of them but was aware that the plight of the -two sentries they had left behind them in the fort might -at any moment be discovered. The hourly call must be -nearly due. When no response came from the sentry -whose beat ended at their shed the alarm would at once -be given, and in a few seconds the silent form of the -sentinel on the bastion would be found, and the whole -garrison would be sped to their pursuit. But at this -moment of suspense only the Babu was agitated. His -natural timidity, and the tincture of European ways of -thought he had gained during his service in Calcutta, -rendered him less subject than his Mohammedan -companions to the fatalism which rules the Oriental mind. -To the Mohammedan what must be must be. Allah has -appointed to every man his lot; man is but as a cork on -the stream of fate. Not even when a low, half-strangled -cry came to them across the water, out of the blackness -that brooded upon the harbour, did any of the four give -sign of excitement. The Babu started, and rose to his -feet shivering; the others still squatted, mute and -motionless as statues of ebony, neither by gesture nor murmur -betraying their consciousness that at any moment, by -tocsin from the fort, a thousand fierce and relentless -warriors might be launched like sleuth-hounds upon their -track.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Meanwhile, what of Desmond and the Gujarati?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the months Desmond had spent in Gheria he -had made himself familiar, as far as his opportunities -allowed, with the construction of the harbour and the -manner of mooring the vessels there. He knew that the -gallivats of the Pirate's fleet, lashed together, lay about -eighty yards from the head of the jetty under the shelter -of the fortress rock, which protected them from the worst -fury of the south-west monsoon. The grabs lay on the -other side of the jetty, some hundred and twenty yards -towards the river--except three vessels which were held -constantly ready for sea somewhat nearer the harbour -mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had learnt, moreover, by cautious and apparently -casual inquiries, that the gallivats were under a guard -of ten men, the grabs of twenty. These men were only -relieved at intervals of three days; they slept on board -when the vessels were in harbour and the crews dispersed -ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In thinking over the difficult problem of escape, -Desmond had found himself in a state of perplexity somewhat -similar to that of the man who had to convey a fox and -a goose and a bag of corn across a river in a boat that -would take but one at a time. He could not, with his -small party, man a gallivat, which required fifty oarsmen -to propel it at speed; while if he seized one of the lighter -grabs, he would have no chance whatever of outrunning -the gallivats that would be immediately launched in -pursuit. It was this problem that had occupied him the -whole day during which Diggle had fondly imagined he -was meditating on Angria's offer of freedom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few moments after their five companions had left -them, Desmond and the Gujarati climbed with the agility -of seamen along the ties of the framework supporting the -jetty, until they reached a spot a yard or two from the -end. There, quite invisible from sea or land, they gently -lowered themselves into the water. Guided by the dim -light which he had noticed, and which he knew must -proceed from one of the moored gallivats, Desmond struck -out towards the farther end of the line of vessels, -swimming a noiseless breast stroke. Fuzl Khan followed him -in equal silence a length behind. The water was warm. -A few minutes' steady swimming brought them within -twenty or thirty yards of the light. The hulls of the -gallivats and their tall raking spars could now be seen -looming up out of the blackness. Desmond perceived -that the light was on the outermost of the line, and, -treading water for a moment, he caught the low hum of -voices coming from the after part of the gallivat. Striking -out to the left, still followed by the Gujarati, he swam -along past the sterns of the lashed vessels until he came -under the side of the one nearest the shore. He caught at -the hempen cable, swarmed up it, and, the gallivat having -but little freeboard, soon reached the bulwark. There he -paused to recover his breath and to listen. Hearing -nothing, he quietly slipped over the side and lay on the -maindeck. In a few seconds he was joined by his -companion. In the shadow of the bulwarks the two groped -their way cautiously along the deck. Presently Desmond, -who was in front, struck his foot against some object -invisible to him. There was a grunt beneath him. The -two paused, Fuzl Khan nervously fingering the knife he -had taken from the sentinel on the bastion. The grunt -was repeated; but the intruders remained still as death, -and with a sleepy grumble the man who had been -disturbed turned over on his charpoy, placed transversely -across the deck, and fell asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All was quiet. Once more the two moved forward. -They came to the ropes by which the vessel was lashed to -the next in the line. For a moment Desmond stood -irresolute; then he led the way swiftly and silently to the deck -of the adjacent gallivat, crossed it without mishap, and so -across the third. Fortunately both were sailors, -accustomed to finding their way on ship-board in the night, as -much by sense of touch as by sight. Being barefooted, -only the sharpest ears, deliberately on the alert, could have -detected them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They had now reached the fourth of the line of vessels. -It was by far the largest of the fleet, and for this reason -Desmond had guessed that it would have been chosen for -his quarters by the serang[#] in charge of the watch. If he -could secure this man he felt that his hazardous enterprise -would be half accomplished. This was indeed the pivot -on which the whole scheme turned, for in no other way -would it be possible to seize the ten men on board the -gallivats without raising such an alarm as must shock -fort, city, and harbour to instant activity. And it was -necessary to Desmond's plan, not only to secure the -serang, but to secure him alive.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Head of a crew.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The gallivat was Angria's own vessel, used in his visits -up-river to his country house, and, during calm weather, in -occasional excursions to Suvarndrug and the other forts -on the sea-coast. As Desmond was aware, it boasted a -large state-cabin aft, and he thought it very probable that -the serang had appropriated this for his watch below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Pausing a moment as they reached the vessel to make -sure that no one was stirring, Desmond and Fuzl Khan -crept on to its deck and threw themselves down, again -listening intently. From the last vessel of the line came -the sound of low voices, accompanied at intervals by the -click of the oblong bone dice with which the men were -gambling. This was a boon, for when the Indian, a born -gambler, is engaged in one of his games of chance, he is -oblivious of all else around him. But on Angria's gallivat -there was no sound. Rising to a crouching position, so -that his form could not be seen if any of the gamblers -chanced to look in his direction, Desmond slowly crept -aft, halting at every few steps to listen. Still there was -no sound. But all at once he caught sight of a faint glow -ahead; what was it? For a few seconds he was puzzled. -As he approached, the glow took shape; he saw that it -was the entrance to the cabin, the sliding door being half -open. Creeping to the darker side, careful not to come -within the radius of the light, he stood erect, and again -listened. From within came the snores of a sleeper. Now -he felt sure that his guess had been correct, for none but -the serang would dare to occupy the cabin, and even he -would no doubt have cause to tremble if his presumption -should come to the Pirate's ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Keeping his body as much in the shadow as possible, -Desmond craned his head forward and peeped into the -cabin. He could see little or nothing; the light came -from a small oil lantern with its face turned to the wall. -Made of some vegetable substance, the oil gave off a -pungent smell. The lantern was no doubt carried by the -serang in his rounds of inspection; probably he kept it -within reach at night; he must be sleeping in the black -shadow cast by it. To locate a sound is always difficult; -but, as far as Desmond could judge, the snores came from -the neighbourhood of the lantern and as from the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stepped back again into complete darkness. The -Gujarati was at his elbow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait, Fuzl Khan," said Desmond in the lowest of -whispers. "I must go in and see where the man is and -how the cabin is arranged."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gujarati crouched in the shadow of the bulwarks. -Desmond, dropping on hands and knees, crawled slowly -forward into the cabin towards the light. It was slightly -above him, probably on a raised divan,--the most likely -place for the serang to choose as his bed. In a few -moments Desmond's outstretched fingers touched the edge -of the little platform; the light was still nearly two yards -away. Still he was unable to see the sleeper, though -by the sound of his breathing he must be very near. -Desmond feared that every movement might bring him -into contact with the man. Whatever the risk, it was -necessary to obtain a little more light. Slightly raising -himself he found that, without actually mounting the -platform, he could just reach the lamp with outstretched -fingers. Very slowly he pushed it round, so that the light -fell more directly into the room. Then he was able to see, -about four feet away, curled up on the divan, with his -arms under his head, the form of a man. There was no -other in the cabin. Having discovered all that he wished -to know, Desmond crawled backward as carefully as he -had come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the moment of the discovery he had felt the eager -boy's impulse to spring upon the sleeper at once, but -although his muscles had been hardened by a year of toil -he doubted whether he had sufficient physical strength to -make absolutely sure of his man; a single cry, the sound -of a scuffle, might be fatal. The Gujarati, on the other -hand, a man of great bulk, could be trusted to overpower -the victim by sheer weight, and with his iron clutch to -ensure that no sound came from him. Desmond's only -fear indeed was that the man, as in the case of the sentinel -on the bastion, might overdo his part and give him all too -thorough a quietus.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came to the entrance of the cabin. His appearance -brought the Gujarati to his side.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Remember, Fuzl Khan," he whispered, "we must -keep the serang alive; not even stun him. You understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Drawing him silently into the apartment and to the edge -of the platform, Desmond again crept to the lantern, and -now turned it gradually still farther inwards until the form -of the sleeper could be distinctly seen. The light was -still dim; but it occurred to Desmond that the glow, -increased now that the lantern was turned round, might -attract the attention of the gamblers on the gallivat at the -end of the line. So, while the Gujarati stood at the -platform, ready to pounce on the sleeper as a cat on a mouse -if he made the least movement, Desmond tiptoed to the -door and began to close the sliding panel. It gave a -slight creak; the sleeper stirred; Desmond quickly pushed -the panel home, and as he did so the serang sat up, -rubbing his eyes and looking in sleepy suspicion towards the -lantern. While his knuckles were still at his eyes Fuzl -Khan was upon him. A brief scuffle, almost noiseless, on -the linen covering of the divan; a heavy panting for breath; -then silence. The Gujarati relaxed his grip on the man's -throat; he made another attempt to cry out; but the firm -fingers tightened their pressure and the incipient cry was -choked in a feeble gurgle. Once more the hapless serang -tried to rise; Fuzl Khan pressed him down and shook him -vigorously. He saw that it was useless to resist, and lay -limp and half-throttled in his captor's hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time Desmond had turned the lantern full upon -the scene. Coming to the man's head, while the Gujarati -still held him by the throat, he said, in low, rapid, but -determined tones:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Obey, and your life will be spared. But if you attempt -to raise an alarm you will be lost. Answer my questions. -Where is there some loose rope on board?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man hesitated to reply, but a squeeze from the -Gujarati decided him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is a coil near the main mast," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond slipped out, and in a few seconds returned -with several yards of thin coir, a strong rope made of -cocoa-nut fibre. Soon the serang lay bound hand and foot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What are the names of the men on the furthest vessel?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are Rama, Sukharam, Ganu, Ganpat, Hari."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Call Rama gently; bid him come here. Do not raise -your voice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man obeyed. The clicking of the dice ceased, and -in a few moments a Maratha appeared at the doorway and -entered blinking. No sooner had he set foot within the -cabin than he was seized by the Gujarati and gagged, and -then, with a rapidity only possible to the practised sailor, -he was roped and laid helpless on the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Call Sukharam," said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The second man answered the summons, only to suffer -the same fate. A third was dealt with in the same fashion; -then the fourth and fifth came together, wondering why -the serang was so brutally interfering with their game. -By the time they reached the door Desmond had turned -the lantern to the wall, so that they saw only a dim shape -within the cabin. Ganpat was secured before the last man -became aware of what was happening. Hari hesitated at -the threshold, hearing the sound of the slight scuffle caused -by the seizure of his companion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him to come in," whispered Desmond in the -serang's ear, emphasizing the order by laying the cold -blade of a knife against his collar-bone. Fuzl Khan had -not yet finished trussing the other; as the last man entered -Desmond threw himself upon him. He could not prevent -a low startled cry; and struggling together, the two rolled -upon the floor. The Maratha, not recognizing his assailant, -apparently thought that the serang had suddenly gone -mad, for he merely tried to disengage himself, speaking in -a tone half angry, half soothing. But finding that the man -grasping him had a determined purpose, he became furious -with alarm, and plucking a knife from his girdle struck -viciously at the form above him. Desmond, with his back -to the light, saw the blow coming. He caught the man's -wrist, and in another moment the Gujarati came to his -assistance. Thus the last of the watchmen was secured -and laid beside his comrades.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Six of the men on board the gallivats had been disposed -of. But there still remained five, asleep until their turn -for watching and dicing came. So quietly had the capture -of the six been effected that not one of the sleepers had -been disturbed. To deal with them was an easier matter. -Leaving the bound men in the cabin, and led by the serang, -whose feet had been released, Desmond and Fuzl Khan -visited each of the gallivats in turn. The sleeping men -awoke at their approach, but they were reassured by the -voice of the serang, who in terror for his life spoke to them -at Desmond's bidding; and before they realized what was -happening they were in the toils, helpless like the rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the last of the watchmen was thus secured, -Desmond crept to the vessel nearest to the shore and, making -a bell of his hands, sent a low hail across the surface of -the water in the direction of the jetty. He waited -anxiously, peering into the darkness, straining his ears. Five -minutes passed, fraught with the pain of uncertainty and -suspense. Then he caught the faint sound of ripples: he -fancied he descried a dark form on the water; it drew -nearer, became more definite.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that you, sahib?" said a low voice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He gave a great sigh of relief. The toni drew alongside, -and soon five men, with bundles, muskets, and the -small heavy barrel, stood with Desmond and the Gujarati -on the deck of the gallivat.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-fourteenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which seven bold men light a big bonfire; -and the Pirate finds our hero a bad bargain.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond's strongest feeling, as his companions stepped -on board, was wonder--wonder at the silence of the fort, -the darkness that covered the whole face of the country, -the safety of himself and the men so lately prisoners. What -time had passed since they had left the shed he was unable -to guess; the moments had been so crowded that any -reckoning was impossible. But when, as he waited for the -coming of the boat, his mind ran over the incidents of the -flight--the trussing of the sentry, the wary approach to the -bastion, the tragic fate of the sentinel there, the stealthy -creeping along the shore, the swim to the gallivats and all -that had happened since: as he recalled these things, he -could not but wonder that the alarm he dreaded had not -already been given. But it was clear that all was as yet -undiscovered; and the plot had worked out so exactly as -planned that he hoped still for a breathing-space to carry -out his enterprise to the end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was not a moment to be wasted. The instant -the men were aboard Desmond rapidly gave his orders. -Fuzl Khan and one of the Mysoreans he sent to carry the -barrel to Angria's gallivat. It contained da'ma. They -were to break it open, tear down the hangings in the -cabin, smear them plentifully, and set light to them from -the lantern. Meanwhile Desmond himself, with the rest of -the men, set about preparing the gallivat in which he was -about to make his next move.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The lightest of the line of vessels was the one in which -the watchmen had been gambling. It happened that this, -with the gallivat next to it, had come into harbour late in -the evening from a short scouting cruise, and the sweeps -used by their crews had not been carried on shore, as the -custom was. The larger vessel had fifty of these sweeps, -the smaller thirty. If pursuit was to be checked it was -essential that none of them should be left in the enemy's -hands, and the work of carrying the fifty from the larger -to the smaller vessel took some time. There was no -longer the same need for quietness of movement. So long -as any great noise and bustle was avoided, the sentinels -on the walls of the fort would only suppose, if sounds -reached their ears, that the watch on board were securing -the gallivats at their moorings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the sweeps had all been transferred Desmond -ordered the prisoners to be brought from Angria's cabin -to the smaller vessel. The lashings of their feet were -cut in turn; each man was carefully searched, deprived -of all weapons, and escorted from the one vessel to the -other, his feet being then securely bound as before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On board the smallest gallivat were now Desmond, five -of his companions, and eleven helpless Marathas. He had -just directed one of the Biluchis to cast loose the lashings -between the vessels, and was already congratulating -himself that the main difficulties of his venture were past, -when he suddenly heard shouts from the direction of the -fort. Immediately afterwards the deep notes of the huge -gong kept in Angria's courtyard boomed and reverberated -across the harbour, echoed at brief intervals by the strident -clanging of several smaller gongs in the town. Barely -had the first sound reached his ears when he saw a light -flash forth from the outermost bastion; to the left of it -appeared a second; and soon, along the whole face of the -fort, in the dockyard, in the town, innumerable lights dotted -the blackness, some stationary, others moving this way -and that. Now cries were heard from all sides, growing -in volume until the sound was as of some gigantic hornets' -nest awakened into angry activity. To the clangour of -gongs was added the blare of trumpets, and from the -walls of the fort and palace, from the hill beyond, from -every cliff along the shore, echoed and re-echoed an -immense and furious din.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a few seconds Desmond stood as if fascinated, -watching the transformation which the hundreds of -twinkling lights had caused. Then he pulled himself together, -and, with a word to the Biluchi who had loosed the -lashings, bidding him hold on to the next gallivat, he sprang -to the side of this vessel, and hurried towards Angria's. -Fuzl Khan had not returned; Desmond almost feared that -some mishap had befallen the man. Reaching the centre -vessel, he peered down the hatchway, but started back as -a gust of acrid smoke struck him from below. He called -to the Gujarati. There was no response. For an instant -he stood in hesitation; had the man been overcome by the -suffocating fumes filling the hold? But just as, with the -instinct of rescue, he was about to lower himself into the -depths, he heard a low hail from the vessel at the end -of the line nearest the shore. A moment afterwards Fuzl -Khan came stumbling towards him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have fired another gallivat, sahib," he said, his voice -ringing with fierce exultation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well done, Fuzl Khan," said Desmond. "Now we -must be off. See, there are torches coming down towards -the jetty."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two sprang across the intervening vessels, a dense -cloud of smoke following them from the hatchway of -Angria's gallivat. Reaching the outermost of the line, -Desmond gave the word, the anchor was slipped, the two -Biluchis pressed with all their force against the adjacent -vessel, and the gallivat moved slowly out. Desmond ran -to the helm, and the Gujarati with his five companions -seizing each upon one of the long sweeps, they dropped -their blades into the water and began to pull.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was all a-tingle with excitement and -determination. The shouts from the shore were nearer; the -lights were brighter; for all he knew the whole garrison -and population were gathering. They had guessed that -an escape was being attempted by sea. Even now perhaps -boats were setting off, bringing rowers to man the -gallivats, and oars to send them in pursuit. If they should -reach the vessels before the middle one had burst into -flame, he felt that his chances of getting away were small -indeed. When would the flame appear? It might check -the pursuers, throw them into consternation, confuse and -delay the pursuit. Would the longed-for blaze never show -itself? And how slowly his gallivat was moving! The -rowers were bending to their work with a will, but six -men were but a poor crew for so large a vessel, and -the progress it was making was in fact due more to -the still ebbing tide than to the frantic efforts of the -oarsmen. The wind was contrary; it would be useless to -hoist the sail. At this rate they would be half an hour -or more in reaching the three grabs anchored nearer the -mouth of the harbour. The willing rowers on their benches -could not know how slowly the vessel was moving, but it -was painfully clear to Desmond at the helm; relative -to the lights on shore the gallivat seemed scarcely to move -at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He called to Fuzl Khan, who left his oar and hurried aft.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must make more speed, Fuzl Khan. Release the -prisoners' hands; keep their feet tied, and place them -among our party. Don't take an oar yourself: stand over -them ready to strike down any man who mutinies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gujarati grunted and hurried away. Assisted by -Surendra Nath, who, being his companion on the rowing -bench, had perforce dropped his oar, he soon had the -prisoners in position. Urging them with terrible threats -and fierce imprecations, he forced them to ply their oars -with long steady strokes. The way on the gallivat -increased. There was not a great distance now to be covered, -it was unnecessary to husband their strength, and with -still more furious menaces Fuzl Khan got out of the -sturdy Marathas all the energy of which they were -capable. The escaped prisoners needed no spur; they -were working with might and main, for dear life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had to steer by guesswork and such -landmarks as were afforded by the lights on shore. He peered -anxiously ahead, hoping to see the dim shapes of the three -grabs; but this was at present impossible, since they -lay between him and the seaward extremity of the fort, -where lights had not yet appeared. Looking back he -saw a number of torches flitting along the shore; and now -two or three dark objects, no doubt boats, were moving -from the further side of the jetty towards the gallivats. -At the same moment that he caught sight of these he saw -at last, rising from the gallivats, the thin tongue of flame -hi had so long expected. But now that it had come at -last, showing that the work on board had been thorough, -he almost regretted it, for it was instantly seen from the -shore and greeted by a babel of yells caught up in different -parts of the town and fort. As at a signal the torches no -longer flickered hither and thither aimlessly, but all took -the same direction towards the jetty. The hunt was up!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Glancing round, Desmond suddenly gave the order to -cease rowing, and putting the helm hard down just avoided -crashing into a dark object ahead. The sweeps grated -against the side of what proved to be one of the grabs for -which he had been looking. A voice from its deck hailed -him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take care! Where are you going? Who are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond called up the serang. He dare not reply -himself, lest his accent should betray him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him all is well. We have a message from the -fort to the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span>," he said in a whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The serang repeated the words aloud.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, huzur. But what is the meaning of the noise -and the torches and the blaze on the sea?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell him we have no time to waste. Ask him where -the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span> lies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man on the grab replied that she lay outside, a dozen -boat's-lengths. Desmond knew that this vessel, which -had been launched during his captivity, and in whose -construction he had had a humble part, had proved -the swiftest in the fleet, although much smaller than the -majority of the Pirate's. Once on board her, and beyond -reach of the guns of the fort, he might fairly hope to get -clear away in spite of his miscellaneous crew. Giving to -the Gujarati the order to go ahead, he questioned the -serang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the name of the serang in charge of the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pandu, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How many men are on board her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then, when we come alongside and I give the word, -you will tell him to come aboard at once; we have a -message from the fort for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Owing to the trend of the shore, the gallivat had been -slowly nearing the walls of the fort, and at this moment -could not be more than a hundred and fifty yards distant -from them. But for the shouting on shore the noise of the -sweeps must by this time have been heard. In the glow -of the blazing vessels in mid channel the moving gallivat -had almost certainly been seen. Desmond grew more -and more anxious.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hail the grab," he said to the serang as the vessel -loomed up ahead.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eo, eo, </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span>!" cried the man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There came an answering hail. Then the serang -hesitated; he was evidently wondering whether even now he -might not defy this foreigner who was bearding his terrible -master. But his hesitation was short. At a sign from -Desmond, Gulam the Biluchi, who had brought the serang -forward, applied the point of his knife to the back of the -unfortunate man's neck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have a message from Angria Rao," he cried quickly. -"Come aboard at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The rowers at a word from Fuzl Khan shipped their -oars, and the two vessels came together with a sharp -thud. The serang in charge of the grab vaulted across the -bulwarks and fell into the waiting arms of Fuzl Khan, -who squeezed his throat, muttered a few fierce words in his -ear, and handed him over to Gulam, who bundled him -below. Then, shouting the order to make fast, the Gujarati -flung a hawser across to the grab. The two men on board -her obeyed without question; but they were still at -the work when Desmond and Fuzl Khan, followed by the -two Mysoreans, leapt upon them from the deck of the -gallivat. There was a short sharp scrimmage; then these -guardians of the grab were hauled on to the gallivat and -sent to join the rowers on the main deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond and his six companions now had fourteen -prisoners on their hands, and in ordinary circumstances -the disproportion would have been fatal. But the -captives, besides having been deprived of all means of offence, -had no exact knowledge of the number of men who had -trapped them. Their fears and the darkness had a -magnifying effect, and, like Falstaff, they would have sworn -that their enemies were ten times as many as they actually -were.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>So deeply engrossed had Desmond been in the capture -of the grab that he had forgotten the one serious danger -that threatened to turn the tide of accident, hitherto so -favourable, completely against him. He had forgotten -the burning gallivats. But now his attention was recalled -to them in a very unpleasant and forcible way. There was -a deafening report, as it seemed from a few yards' distance, -followed immediately by a splash in the water just ahead. -The glare of the burning vessels was dimly lighting up -almost the whole harbour mouth, and the runaway -gallivat, now clearly seen from the fort, had become a -target for its guns. The gunners had been specially -exercised of late in anticipation of an attack from Bombay, -and Desmond knew that in his slow-going vessel he could -not hope to draw out of range in time to escape a battering.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his gallivat was among the grabs. At this moment -it must be impossible for the gunners to distinguish -between the runaway and the loyal vessels. If he could only -cause them to hold their fire for a time! Knowing that -the Gujarati had a stentorian voice, and that a shout -would carry upwards from the water to the parapet, in -a flash Desmond saw the possibility of a ruse. He spoke -to Fuzl Khan. The man at once turned to the fort, and -with the full force of his lungs shouted:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Comrades, do not fire. We have caught them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Answering shouts came from the walls; the words were -indistinguishable, but the trick had succeeded, at any -rate for the moment. No second shot was at this time -fired.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond made full use of this period of grace. He -recognized that the gallivat, while short-handed, was too -slow to make good the escape; the grab, with the wind -contrary, could never be got out of the harbour; the only -course open to him was to make use of the one to tow -the other until they reached the open sea. As soon as -a hawser could be bent the grab was taken in tow: its -crew was impressed with the other prisoners as rowers, -under the charge of the Biluchis; and with Desmond at -the helm of the grab and the Gujarati steering the gallivat, -the two vessels crept slowly seawards. They went at -a snail's pace, for it was nearly slack tide; and slow as -the progress of the gallivat had been before it was much -slower now that the men had to move two vessels instead -of one. To Desmond, turning every now and again to -watch the increasing glare from the burning gallivats, it -seemed that he scarcely advanced at all. The town and -the townward part of the fort were minute by minute -becoming more brightly illuminated; every detail around -the blazing vessels could be distinctly seen; and mingled -with the myriad noises from the shore was now the crackle -of the flames, and the hiss of burning spars and rigging -as they fell into the water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gallivats had separated into two groups; either -they had been cut apart, or, more probably, the lashings -had been burnt through. Around one of the groups -Desmond saw a number of small boats. They appeared -to be trying to cut out the middle of the three gallivats, -which seemed to be as yet uninjured, while the vessels -on either side were in full blaze. Owing to the intense -heat the men's task was a difficult and dangerous one, -and Desmond had good hope that they would not succeed -until the gallivat was too much damaged to be of use -for pursuit. He wondered, indeed, at the attempt being -made at all; for it kept all the available boats engaged -when they might have dashed upon the grab in tow and -made short work of it. The true explanation of their -blunder did not at the moment occur to Desmond. The -fact was that the men trying so earnestly to save the -gallivat knew nothing of what had happened to the grab. -They were aware that a gallivat had been cut loose and -was standing out to sea; but the glare of the fire blinded -them to all that was happening beyond a narrow circle, -and as yet they had had no information from shore of -what was actually occurring. When they did learn that -two vessels were on their way to the sea, they would no -doubt set out to recapture the fugitives instead of wasting -their efforts in a futile attempt to save the unsavable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was still speculating on the point when -another shot from the fort aroused him to the imminent -danger. The dark shapes of the two vessels must now -certainly be visible from the walls. The shot flew wide. -Although the grab was well within range it was doubtless -difficult to take aim, the distance being deceptive and -the sights useless in the dark. But this shot was followed -at intervals of a few seconds by another and another; it -was clear that the fugitives were running the gauntlet of -the whole armament on this side of the fort. The guns -were being fired as fast as they could be loaded; the gunners -were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and when -Desmond heard the shots plumping into the water, nearer -to him, it seemed, every time, he could not but recognize -that success or failure hung upon a hair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Crash! A round shot struck the grab within a few -feet of the wheel. A shower of splinters flew in all -directions. Desmond felt a stinging blow on the forehead; -he put up his hand; when he took it away it was wet. -He could not leave the wheel to see what damage had -been done to the ship, still less to examine his own -injury. He was alone on board. Every other man was -straining at his oar in the gallivat. He felt the blood -trickling down his face; from time to time he wiped it -away with the loose end of his dhoti. Then he forgot -his wound, for two more shots within a few seconds of -each other struck the grab forward. Clearly the gunners -were aiming at his vessel, which, being larger than the -gallivat, and higher in the water, presented an easier -mark. Where had she been hit? If below the -waterline, before many minutes were past she would be -sinking under him. Yet he could do nothing. He dared not -order the men in the gallivat to cease rowing; he dared -not leave the helm of the grab; he could but wait and -hold his post. It would not be long before he knew whether -the vessel had been seriously hit: if it was so, then would -be the time to cast off the tow-rope.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gallivat, at any rate, appeared not to have suffered. -Desmond was beginning to think he was out of the wood -when he heard a crash in front, followed by a still more -ominous sound. The motion of the gallivat at once -ceased, and, the grab slowly creeping up to her, Desmond -had to put his helm hard up to avoid a collision. He -could hear the Gujarati raging and storming on deck, -and cries as of men in pain; then, as the grab came abreast -of the smaller vessel, he became aware of what had -happened. The mainmast of the gallivat had been struck -by a shot and had gone by the board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond hailed the Gujarati and told him to get three -or four men to cut away the wreckage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep an eye on the prisoners," he added, feeling that -this was perhaps the most serious element in a serious -situation; for with round shot flying about the vessel -it might well have seemed to the unhappy men on the -rowing benches that mutiny was the lesser of two risks. -But the rowers were cowed by the presence of the two -Biluchis armed with their terrible knives, and they crowded -in dumb helplessness while the tangled rigging was cut -away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is any one hurt?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"One of the rowers has a broken arm, sahib," replied -Shaik Abdullah.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And I have a contusion of the nose," said the Babu -lugubriously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was impossible to do anything for the sufferers at -the moment. It was still touch-and-go with the whole -party. The shots from the fort were now beginning to -fall short, but, for all Desmond knew, boats might have -been launched in pursuit, and if he was overtaken it meant -lingering torture and a fearful death. He was in a fever -of impatience until at length, the tangled shrouds having -been cut away, the rowing was resumed and the two -vessels began again to creep slowly seaward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Gradually they drew out of range of the guns. Steering -straight out to sea, Desmond had a clear view of the -whole of the harbour and a long stretch of the river. The -scene was brightly lit up, and he saw that two of the -gallivats had been towed away from the burning vessels, from -which the flames were now shooting high into the air. But -even on the two that had been cut loose there were spurts -of flame; and Desmond hoped that they had sustained -enough damage to make them unseaworthy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly there were two loud explosions, in quick -succession. A column of fire rose towards the sky from each -of the gallivats that were blazing most brightly. The fire -had at length reached the ammunition. The red sparks -sprang upwards like a fountain, casting a ruddy glow for -many yards around; then they fell back into the sea, and -all was darkness, except for the lesser lights from the -burning vessels whose magazines had as yet escaped. -The explosions could hardly have occurred at a more -opportune moment, for the darkness was now all the more -intense, and favoured the fugitives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a brisk breeze from the south-west outside -the harbour, and when the two vessels lost the shelter of -the headland they crept along even more slowly than before. -Desmond had learnt enough of seamanship on board the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> to know that he must have sea-room before he -cast off the gallivat and made sail northwards; otherwise -he would inevitably be driven on shore. It was this fact -that had prompted his operations in the harbour. He knew -that the grabs could not put to sea unless they were towed, -and the gallivats being rendered useless, towing was -impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sea was choppy, and the rowers had much ado to -control the sweeps. Only their dread of the Biluchis' -knives kept them at their work. But the progress, though -slow, was steady; gradually the glow in the sky behind the -headland grew dimmer; though it was as yet impossible to -judge with certainty how much offing had been made, -Desmond, resolving to give away no chances, and being -unacquainted with the trend of the coast, kept the rowers -at work, with short intervals of rest, until dawn. By this -means he hoped to avoid all risk of being driven on a lee -shore, and to throw Angria off the scent; for it would -naturally be supposed that the fugitives would head at -once for Bombay, and pursuit, if attempted, would be -made in that direction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When day broke over the hills, Desmond guessed that -the coast must be now five miles off. As far as he could -see, it ran north by east. He had now plenty of sea-room; -there was no pursuer in sight; the wind was in his favour, -and if it held, no vessel in Angria's harbour could now -catch him. He called to the Gujarati, who shouted an -order to the Biluchis; the worn-out men on the benches -ceased rowing, except four, who pulled a few strokes every -now and again to prevent the two vessels from colliding. -Desmond had thought at first of stopping the rowing -altogether and running the grab alongside the gallivat; -but that course, while safe enough in the still water of the -harbour, would have its dangers in the open sea. So, -lashing the helm of the grab, he dropped into a small boat -which had been bumping throughout the night against -the vessel's side, and in a few minutes was on board the -gallivat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He first inquired after the men who had been wounded -in the night. One had a broken arm, which no one on -board knew how to set. The Babu had certainly a much -discoloured nose, the contusion having been caused no -doubt by a splinter of wood thrown up by the shot. Two -or three of the rowers had slight bruises and abrasions, -but none had been killed and none dangerously hurt.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then Desmond had a short and earnest talk with the -Gujarati, who alone of the men had sufficient seamanship -to make him of any value in deciding upon the next move.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is to be done with the gallivat?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scuttle her, sahib, and hoist sail on the grab."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the rowers?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Fasten them to the benches and let them drown. -They could not help our enemies then, and it would make -up for what you and I and all of us have suffered in Gheria."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I can't do that," said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It must be as I say, sahib. There is nothing else to -do. We have killed no one yet, except the sentinel on the -parapet; I did that neatly, the sahib will agree; I would -have a life for every lash of the whip upon my back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Desmond decisively, "I will not drown the -men. We will take on board the grab three or four, who -must be sailors; let us ask who will volunteer. We will -promise them good pay; we haven't any money, to be sure, -but the grab can be sold when we reach Bombay, and -though we stole her I think everybody would admit that -she is our lawful prize. I should think they'll be ready -enough to volunteer, for they won't care to return to -Gheria and face Angria's rage. At the same time we -can't take more than three or four, because in the -daylight they can now see how few we are, and they might -take a fancy to recapture the grab. What do you think -of that plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gujarati sullenly assented. He did not understand -mercy to an enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is no need to pay them, sahib," he said. "You -can promise pay; a promise is enough."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was unwilling to start an argument and said -nothing. Once in Bombay he could ensure that any -pledges given would be strictly kept.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he expected, there was no difficulty in obtaining -volunteers. Twice the number required offered their -services. They had not found their work with the -Pirate so easy and so well rewarded as to have any great -objection to a change of masters. Moreover, they no -doubt feared the reception they would get from Angria -if they returned. And it appeared afterwards that during -the night the Biluchis had recounted many fabulous -incidents all tending to show that the sahib was a very -important as well as a very ingenious Firangi, so that this -reputation, coupled with an offer of good pay, overcame -any scruples the men might retain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Among those who volunteered and whose services were -accepted was the serang of Angria's gallivat. Unknown -to Desmond, while he was holding this conversation with -the Gujarati, the serang, crouching in apparent apathy on -his bench, had really strained his ears to catch what was -being said. He, with the three other men selected, was -released from his bonds, and ordered to lower the long -boat of the gallivat and stow in it all the ammunition for -the guns that was to be found in the ship's magazine. -This was then taken on board the grab, and Desmond -ordered one of the Mysoreans to load the grab's stern -chaser, telling the Marathas whom he intended to leave -on the gallivat that, at the first sign of any attempt to -pursue, their vessel would be sunk.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then in two parties the fugitives went on board the -grab. Desmond was the last to leave the gallivat, releasing -one of the captive rowers, who in his turn could release -the rest.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As soon as Desmond stepped on board the grab, the -hawser connecting the two vessels was cast off, the -mainsail was run up, and the grab, sailing large, stood up the -coast. Fuzl Khan, swarming up to the mast-head, -reported two or three sail far behind, apparently at the -mouth of Gheria harbour. But Desmond, knowing that -if they were in pursuit they had a long beat to windward -before them, felt no anxiety on that score. Besides, the -grab he was on had been selected precisely because it was -the fastest vessel in Angria's fleet.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having got fairly under way, he felt that he had leisure -to inspect the damage done to the grab by the shots from -the fort which had given him so much concern in the -darkness. That she had suffered no serious injury was clear -from the ease with which she answered the helm and the -rapidity of her sailing. He found that a hole or two had -been made in the forepart of the deck, and a couple of -yards of the bulwarks carried away. There was nothing -to cause alarm or to demand instant repair.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a bright cool morning, and Desmond, after the -excitements and the strain of the last few days, felt an -extraordinary lightness of spirit as the vessel cut through -the water. For the first time in his life he knew the -meaning of the word freedom; none but a man who has -suffered captivity or duress can know such joy as now -filled his soul. The long stress of his menial life on board -the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, the weary months of toil, difficulty and -danger as Angria's prisoner, were past; and it was with -whole-hearted joyousness he realized that he was now on -his way to Bombay, whence he might proceed to Madras, -and Clive--Clive, the hero who was as a fixed star in -his mental firmament.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gallivat, lying all but motionless on the water, a -forlorn object with the jagged stump of her mainmast, -grew smaller and smaller in the distance, and was soon -hull down. Desmond, turning away from a last look in -her direction, awoke from his reverie to the consciousness -that he was ravenously hungry.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-fifteenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero weathers a storm; and -prepares for squalls.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hungry as he was, however, Desmond would not eat while -he was, so to speak, still in touch with Gheria. He ran up -the sail on the mizzen, and the grab was soon cutting her -way through the water at a spanking rate. He had closely -studied the chart on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> when that -vessel was approaching the Indian coast--not with any -fixed purpose, but in the curiosity which invested all things -Indian with interest for him. From his recollection he -believed that Gheria was somewhat more than a hundred -miles from Bombay. If the grab continued to make such -good sailing, she might hope to cover this distance by -midnight. But she could hardly run into harbour until -the following day. There was of course no chart, not even a -compass, on board; the only apparatus he possessed was a -water-clock; naturally he could not venture far out to sea, -but neither dared he hug the shore too closely. He knew -not what reefs there might be lying in wait for his untaught -keel. Besides, he might be sighted from one or other of -the coast strongholds still remaining in Angria's hands, -and it was not impossible that swift messengers had -already been sent along the shore from Gheria, prescribing -a keen look-out and the chase of any solitary grab -making northward. But if he kept too far out he might -run past Bombay, though when he mentioned this to -his fellow-fugitives he was assured by the Biluchis and -Fuzl Khan that they would unfailingly recognize the -landmarks, having more than once in the course of their -trading and pirate voyages touched at that port.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the whole he thought it best to keep the largest -possible offing that would still leave the coast within sight. -Putting the helm down he ran out some eight or ten miles, -until the coast was visible only from the mast-head as a -purple line on the horizon, with occasional glimpses of -high ghats[#] behind.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Mountains.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Meanwhile the Gujarati and some of the others had -breakfasted from their bundles. Leaving the former in -charge of the wheel, Desmond took his well-earned meal -of rice and chapatis, stale, but sweet with the sweetness -of freedom.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In his ignorance of the coast he felt that he must not -venture to run into Bombay in the darkness, and resolved -to heave-to during the night. At the dawn he could creep -in towards the shore without anxiety, for there was little -chance of falling in with hostile vessels in the immediate -neighbourhood of Bombay. Knowing that a considerable -British fleet lay there, the Pirate would not allow his -vessels to cruise far from his own strongholds. But as -there was a prospect of spending at least one night at sea, -it was necessary to establish some system of watches. -The task of steering had to be shared between Desmond -and Fuzl Khan; and the majority of the men being wholly -inexperienced, it was not safe to leave fewer than six of -them on duty at a time. The only danger likely to arise -was from the weather. So far it was good; the sea was -calm, the sky was clear; but Desmond was enough of a -seaman to know that, being near the coast, the grab might -at any moment, almost without warning, be struck by a -squall. He had to consider how best to divide up his -crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Including himself there were eleven men on board. Four -of them were strangers of whom he knew nothing; the six -who had escaped with him were known only as fellow-prisoners.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To minimize any risk, he divided the crew into three -watches. One consisted of the Babu, the serang, and -one of the Marathas from the gallivat. Each of the others -comprised a Mysorean, a Biluchi, and a Maratha. Thus -the strangers were separated as much as possible, and -the number of Marathas on duty was never in excess of -the number of fugitives; the steersman, Desmond or the -Gujarati as the case might be, turned the balance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The watch was set by means of the water-clock found in -the cabin. Desmond arranged that he and Fuzl Khan -should take alternate periods of eight hours on and four -off. The two matchlocks taken from the sentinels of the -fort and brought on board were loaded and placed on deck -near the wheel. None of the crew were armed save the -Biluchis, who retained their knives.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Towards midday the wind dropped almost to a dead -calm. This was disappointing, for Desmond suspected -that he was still within the area of Angria's piratical -operations--if not from Gheria, at any rate from some of -the more northerly strongholds not yet captured by the -East India Company or the Peshwa. But he had a good -offing: scanning the horizon all around he failed to sight -a single sail; and he hoped that the breeze would freshen -as suddenly as it had dropped.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now that excitement and suspense were over, and there -was nothing that called for activity, Desmond felt the -natural reaction from the strain he had undergone. By -midday he was so tired and sleepy that he found himself -beginning to doze at the wheel. The Gujarati had been -sleeping for some hours, and as the vessel now required -scarcely any attention, Desmond thought it a good opportunity -for snatching a rest. Calling to Fuzl Khan to take -his place, and bidding him keep the vessel's head, as far as -he could, due north, he went below. About six bells, as -time would have been reckoned on the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, he -was wakened by the Babu, with a message from the -Gujarati desiring him to come on deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is anything wrong, Babu?" he asked, springing up.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not so far as I am aware, sahib. Only it is much -hotter since I began my watch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had hardly stepped on deck before he -understood the reason of the summons. Overhead all was -clear; but towards the land a dense bank of black cloud -was rising, and approaching the vessel with great rapidity. -It was as though some vast blanket were being thrown -seawards. The air was oppressively hot, and the sea lay -like lead. Desmond knew the signs; the Gujarati knew -them too; and they set to work with a will to meet the -storm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Fortunately Desmond, recognizing the unhandiness of -his crew, had taken care to set no more sail than could -be shortened at the briefest notice. He had not been -called a moment too soon. A flash lit the black sky; a -peal of thunder rattled like artillery far off; and then a -squall struck the grab with terrific force, and the sea, -suddenly lashed into fury, advanced like a cluster of green -liquid mountains to overwhelm the vessel. She heeled -bulwarks under, and was instantly wrapped in a dense -mist, rain pouring in blinding sheets. The maintopsail -was blown away with a report like a gun-shot; and then, -under a reefed foresail, the grab ran before the wind, -which was apparently blowing from the south-east. -Furious seas broke over the deck; the wind shrieked through -the rigging; the vessel staggered and plunged under the -shocks of sea and wind. Fuzl Khan clung to the helm -with all his strength, but his arms were almost torn from -their sockets, and he called aloud for Desmond to come to -his assistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was fortunate that little was required of the crew, for -in a few minutes all of them save the four Marathas from -the gallivat were prostrated with sea-sickness. The Babu -had run below, and occasionally, between two gusts, -Desmond could hear the shrieks and groans of the terrified -man. But he had no time to sympathize; his whole -energies were bent on preventing the grab from being -pooped. He felt no alarm; indeed, the storm exhilarated -him; danger is bracing to a courageous spirit, and his -blood leapt to this contest with the elements. He thrilled -with a sense of personal triumph as he realized that the -grab was a magnificent sea-boat. There was no fear but -that the hull would stand the strain; Desmond knew the -pains that had been expended in her building: the careful -selection of the timbers, the niceness with which the planks -had been fitted. No European vessel could have proved -her superior in seaworthiness.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But she was fast drifting out into the Indian Ocean, -far away from the haven Desmond desired to make. How -long was this going to last? Whither was he being -carried? Without chart or compass he could take no -bearings, set no true course. It was a dismal prospect, -and Desmond, glowing as he was with the excitement -of the fight, yet felt some anxiety. Luckily, besides the -provisions brought in their bundles by the fugitives, there -was a fair supply of food and water on board; for although -every portable article of value had been taken on shore -when the grab anchored in Gheria, it had not been thought -necessary to remove the bulkier articles. Thus, if at -the worst the vessel were driven far out to sea, there -was no danger of starvation even if she could not make -port for several days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Desmond hoped that things would not come to this -pass. Towards nightfall, surely, the squall would blow -itself out. Yet the wind appeared to be gaining rather -than losing strength; hour after hour passed, and he still -could not venture to quit the wheel. He was drenched -through and through with the rain; his muscles ached -with the stress; and he could barely manage to eat the -food and water brought him staggeringly by the serang -in the intervals of the wilder gusts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The storm had lasted for nearly ten hours before it -showed signs of abatement. Another two hours passed -before it was safe to leave the helm. The wind had by -this time fallen to a steady breeze; the rain had ceased; -the sky was clear and starlit; but the sea was still running -high. At length the serang offered to steer while the -others got a little rest; and entrusting the wheel to him, -Desmond and Fuzl Khan threw themselves down as they -were, on the deck near the wheel, and were soon fast -asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At dawn Desmond awoke to find the grab labouring in -a heavy sea, with just steering-way on. The wind had -dropped to a light breeze. The Gujarati was soon up and -relieved the serang at the wheel; the rest of the crew, -haggard, melancholy objects, were set to work to make -things ship-shape. Only the Babu remained below; he -lay huddled in the cabin, bruised, prostrate, unable to -realize that the bitterness of death was past, unable to -believe that life had any further interest for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's position was perplexing. Where was he? -Perforce he had lost his bearings. He scanned the whole -circumference of the horizon, and saw nothing but the -vast dark ocean plain and its immense blue dome--never -a yard of land, never a stitch of canvas. He had no -means of ascertaining his latitude. During the twelve -hours of the storm the grab had been driven at a furious -rate; if the wind had blown all the time from the south-east, -the quarter from which it had struck the vessel, she -must now be at least fifty miles from the coast, possibly -more, and north of Bombay. In the inky blackness of -the night, amid the blinding rain, it had been impossible -to read anything from the stars. All was uncertain, save -the golden sheen of sunlight in the east.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's only course was to put the vessel about and -steer by the sun. She must thus come sooner or later in -sight of the coast, and then one or other of the men on -board might recognize a landmark--a hill, a promontory, -a town. The danger was that they might make the coast -in the neighbourhood of one of the Pirate's strongholds; -but that must be risked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For the rest of the day there were light variable winds, -such as, according to Fuzl Khan, might be expected at -that season of the year. The north-east monsoon was -already overdue. Its coming was usually heralded by -fitful and uncertain winds, varied by such squalls or storms -as they had just experienced.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sea moderated early in the morning, and became -continually smoother until, as the sun went down, there -was scarce a ripple on the surface. The wind meanwhile -had gradually veered to the south-west, and later to the -west, and the grab began to make more headway. But -with the fall of night it dropped to a dead calm, a -circumstance from which the Gujarati inferred that they were -still a long way from the coast. When the stars appeared, -however, and Desmond was able to get a better idea of -the course to set, a slight breeze sprang up again from -the west, and the grab crept along at a speed of perhaps -four knots.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been a lazy day on board. The crew had -recovered from their sickness, but there was nothing for -them to do, and as Orientals they were quite content to -do nothing. Only the Babu remained off duty, in addition -to the watch below. Desmond visited him, and -persuaded him to take some food: but nothing would induce -him to come on deck; the mere sight of the sea, he said, -would externalize his interior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was Desmond's trick at the wheel between eight and -midnight. Gulam Mahomed was on the look-out; the -rest of the crew were forward squatting on the deck in -a circle round Fuzl Khan. Desmond, thinking of other -things, heard dully, as from a great distance, the drone -of the Gujarati's voice. He was talking more freely and -continuously than was usual with him; ordinarily his -manner was morose; he was a man of few words, and -those not too carefully chosen. So prolonged was the -monotonous murmur, however, that Desmond by and by -found himself wondering what was the subject of his -lengthy discourse; he even strained his ears to catch, if -it might be, some fragments of it; but nothing came into -distinctness out of the low-pitched drone. Occasionally -it was broken by the voice of one of the others; now -and again there was a brief interval of silence; then the -Gujarati began again. Desmond's thoughts were once -more diverted to his own strange fate. Little more than -a year before, he had been a boy, with no more experience -than was to be gained within the narrow circuit of a -country farm. What a gamut of adventure he had run -through since then! He smiled as he thought that none -of the folks at Market Drayton would recognize, in the -muscular, strapping, sun-tanned seaman, the slim boy of -Wilcote Grange. His imagination had woven many a -chain of incident, and set him in many a strange place; -but never had it presented a picture of himself in command -of as mixed a crew as was ever thrown together, navigating -unknown waters without chart or compass, a fugitive -from the chains of an Eastern despot. His quick fancy -was busy even now. He felt that it was not for nothing -he had been brought into his present plight; and at the -back of his mind was the belief, founded on his strong -wish and hope, that the magnetism of Clive's personality, -which he had felt so strongly at Market Drayton, was -still influencing his career.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At midnight Fuzl Khan relieved him at the wheel, and -he turned in. His sleep was troubled. It was a warm -night--unusually warm for the time of year. There were -swarms of cockroaches and rats on board; the cockroaches -huge beasts, three times the size of those that overran -the kitchen at home; the rats seeming as large as the -rabbits he had been wont to shoot on the farm. They -scurried about with their little restless noises, which -usually would have had no power to break his sleep; but -now they worried him. He scared them into silence for -a moment by striking upon the floor; but the rustle and -clipper-clapper immediately began again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After vain efforts to regain his sleep, he at length rose -and went on deck. He did not move with intentional -quietness, but he was barefoot, and his steps made no -sound. It was a black night, a warm haze almost shutting -out the stars. As he reached the deck he heard low -murmurs from a point somewhere aft. He had no idea -what the time was: Shaik Abdullah had the water-clock, -with which he timed the watches; and Desmond's could -not yet be due. Avoiding the spot where the conversation -was in progress, he leant over the bulwarks, and gazed -idly at the phosphorescent glow upon the water. Then -he suddenly became aware that the sounds of talking -came from near the wheel, and Fuzl Khan was among -the talkers. What made the man so uncommonly talkative? -Seemingly he was taking up the thread where it had -been dropped earlier in the night; what was it about?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond asked himself the question without much -interest, and was again allowing his thoughts to rove -when he caught the word "sahib," and then the word -"Firangi" somewhat loudly spoken. Immediately -afterwards there was a low hiss from the Gujarati, as of one -warning another to speak lower. The experiences of the -past year had quickened Desmond's wits; with reason -he had become more suspicious than of yore, and the -necessity to be constantly on his guard had made him -alert, alive to the least suggestion. Why had the speaker -been hushed--and by Fuzl Khan? He remembered the -ugly rumours, the veiled hints he had heard about the -man in Gheria. If they were true, he had sold his comrades -who trusted him. They might not be true; the man -himself had always indignantly denied them. Desmond had -nothing against him. So far he had acted loyally enough; -but then he had nothing to gain by playing his -fellow-fugitives false, and it was with this knowledge that -Desmond had decided to make him privy to the escape. -But now they were clear of Gheria. Fuzl Khan was free -like the rest; he had no longer the same inducement to -play straight if his interest seemed to him to clash with -the general. Yet it was not easy to see how such a -clashing could occur. Like the others he was lost at sea; -until land was reached, at any rate, he could have no -motive for opposition or mutiny.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While these thoughts were passing through Desmond's -mind he heard a man rise from the group aft and come -forward. Instinctively he moved from the side of the -vessel towards the mainmast, and as the man drew near -Desmond stood so that the stout tree-trunk was between -them. The man went rapidly towards the bows, and in a -low tone hailed the look-out, whispering him a summons -to join the Gujarati at the helm. The look-out, one of the -Marathas, left his post; he came aft with the messenger, -and, both passing on the same side of the vessel, Desmond -by dodging round the mast escaped their notice.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the best, the action of Fuzl Khan was a dereliction of -duty; at the worst!--Desmond could not put his -suspicions into words. It was clear that something was -afoot, and he resolved to find out what it was. Very -cautiously he followed the two men. Bending low, and -keeping under the shadow of the bulwarks, he crept to -within a few feet of the almost invisible group. A friendly -coil of rope near the taffrail gave him additional cover; -but the night was so dark that he ran little risk of being -perceived so long as the men remained stationary. He -himself could barely see the tall form of the Gujarati dimly -outlined against the sky.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-sixteenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which a mutiny is quelled in a minute; -and our Babu proves himself a man of war.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Crouching low, Desmond waited. When the Maratha -joined the group Fuzl Khan addressed him directly in a -low firm tone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We are all agreed, Nanna," he said. "You are the -only man wanting to our purpose. This is the fastest grab -on the coast. I know a port where we can get arms and -ammunition; with a few good men (and I know where -they can be found), we can make a strong band, and grow -rich upon our spoils."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what about the sahib?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wah! We know what these Firangi are like--at -least the Angrezi.[#] They have the heads of pigs; there -is no moving them. It would be vain to ask the young -sahib to join us; his mind is set on getting to -Bombay and telling all his troubles to the Company. What -a folly! And what an injustice to us! It would destroy -our chance of making our fortunes, for what would -happen? The grab would be sold; the sahib would take -the most of the price; we should get a small share, not -enough to help us to become rovers of the sea and our -own masters."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] English.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"The sahib will refuse, then. So be it! But what -then shall we do with him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will not get the chance of refusing. He will not -be told."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But he is taking us to Bombay. How then can we -work our will?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He thinks he is sailing to Bombay: he will really take -us to Cutch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How is that, brother?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Does he know Bombay? Of a truth no. He is a boy: -he has never sailed these seas. He depends on us. -Suppose we come in sight of Bombay, who will tell him? -Nobody. If he asks, we will say it is some other place: -how can he tell? We will run past Bombay until we are -within sight of Cutch: then truly I will do the rest."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Maratha did not reply. The momentary silence -was broken by Fuzl Khan again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"See! Put the one thing in the balance against the -other: how does it turn? On the one side the twenty -rupees--a pitiful sum--promised by the sahib: and who -knows he will keep his promise? On the other, a tenth -share for each of you in the grab and whatsoever prey falls -to it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then the Babu is to have a share? Of a truth he is a -small man, a hare in spirit; does he merit an equal share -with us? We are elephants to him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No. He will have no share. He will go overboard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, then, what of the tenth share?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be mine. I shall be your leader and take two."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had heard enough. The Gujarati was showing -himself in his true colours. His greed was roused, -and the chance of setting up as a pirate on his own account, -and making himself a copy of the man whose prisoner -he had been, had prompted this pretty little scheme. -Desmond crept noiselessly away and returned to his -quarters. Not to sleep; he spent the remainder of his -watch below in thinking out his position--in trying to -devise some means of meeting this new and unexpected -difficulty. He had not heard what Fuzl Khan proposed -ultimately to do with him. He might share the Babu's -fate: at the best it would appear that he had shaken off -one captivity to fall into the toils of another. He had -heard grim tales of the pirates of the Cambay Gulf; they -were not likely to prove more pleasant masters than the -Marathas farther south, even if they did not prefer to put -him summarily out of the way. His presence among them -might prove irksome, and what would the death of a single -English youth matter? He was out of reach of all his -friends; on the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> none but Bulger and the New -Englander had any real kindness for him, and if Bulger -were to mention at any port that a young English lad was -in captivity with the Pirate, what could be done? Should -the projected expedition against Gheria prove successful, -and he not be found among the European prisoners, it -would be assumed that he was no longer living; and even -if the news of his escape was known, it was absurd to -suppose that all India would be searched for him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The outlook, from any point of view, was gloomy. The -Gujarati had evidently won over the whole ship's -company. Were they acting from the inclination for a rover's -life, coupled with hope of gain, or had they been jockeyed -into mutiny by Fuzl Khan? Desmond could not tell, nor -could he find out without betraying a knowledge of the -plot. Then he remembered the Babu. He alone had been -excepted; the other men held him in contempt; but despite -his weaknesses, for which he was indeed hardly accountable, -Desmond had a real liking for him; and it was an -unpleasant thought that, whatever happened to himself, if -the plot succeeded Surendra Nath was doomed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But thinking of this, Desmond saw one ray of hope. -He had not been for long the companion of men of -different castes without picking up a few notions of what -caste meant. The Babu was a Brahman; as a Bengali -he had no claim on the sympathies of the others; but as a -Brahman his person to other Hindus was inviolable. The -Marathas were Hindus, and they at least would not -willingly raise their hand against him. Yet Desmond could -not be certain on this point. During his short residence -in Gheria he had found that, in the East as too often in the -West, the precepts of religion were apt to be kept rather in -the letter than in the spirit. He had seen the sacred cow, -which no good Hindu would venture to kill for untold -gold, atrociously overworked, and, when too decrepit to be -of further service, left to perish miserably of neglect and -starvation. It might be that although the Marathas would -not themselves lay hands on the Babu, they would be -quite content to look calmly on while a Mohammedan did -the work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the best, it was Desmond and the Babu against the -crew--hopeless odds, for if it came to a fight the latter -would be worse than useless. Not that Desmond held the -man in such scorn as the men of his own colour. Surendra -Nath was certainly timid and slack, physically weak, -temperamentally a coward: yet he had shown gleams of -spirit during the escape, and it seemed to Desmond that -he was a man who, having once been induced to enter -upon a course, might prove both constant and loyal. The -difficulty now was that, prostrated by his illness during -the storm, he was not at his best; certainly in no condition -to face a difficulty either mental or physical. So Desmond -resolved not to tell him of the danger impending. He -feared the effect upon his shaken nerves. He would not -intentionally do anything against Desmond's interest, but -he could scarcely fail to betray his anxiety to the -conspirators. Feeling that there was nobody to confide in, -Desmond decided that his only course was to feign -ignorance of what was going on, and await events with what -composure he might. Not that he would relax his watchfulness; -on the contrary he was alert and keen, ready to -seize with manful grip the skirts of chance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Perhaps, he thought, the grab might fall in with a -British ship. But what would that avail? The grab with -her extraordinary sailing powers could show a clean pair -of heels to any Indiaman, however fast, even if he could -find an opportunity of signalling for help. Fuzl Khan, -without doubt, would take care that he never had such a -chance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning things over in his mind, and seeing no way out -of his difficulty, he was at length summoned to relieve the -Gujarati at the wheel. It was, he supposed, about four in -the morning, and still pitch-dark. When he came to the -helm Fuzl Khan was alone: there was nothing to betray -the fact that the plotters had, but little before, been -gathered around him. The look-out, who had left his -post to join the group, had returned forward, and was now -being relieved, like the Gujarati himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond exchanged a word or two with the man, and -was left alone at the wheel. His mind was still set -on the problem how to frustrate the scheme of the -mutineers. He was convinced that if the grab once -touched shore at any point save Bombay, his plight would -be hopeless. But how could he guard against the danger? -Even if he could keep the navigation of the grab entirely -in his own hands by remaining continuously at the helm, -he was dependent on the plotters for information about the -coast; to mislead him would be the easiest thing in the -world. But it suddenly occurred to him that he might gain -time by altering the course of the vessel. If he kept out of -sight of land he might increase the chance of some diversion -occurring.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accordingly he so contrived that the grab lost rather -than gained in her tacks against the light north-west -wind now blowing. None of the men, except possibly -the Gujarati, had sufficient seamanship to detect this -manoeuvre; he had gone below, and when he came on -deck again he could not tell what progress had been -made during his absence. Only the mainsail, foresail, -and one topsail were set: these were quite enough for -the untrained crew to trim in the darkness--likely to -prove too much, indeed, in the event of a sudden squall. -Thus the process of going about was a long and laborious -one, and at the best much way was lost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Not long after he had begun to act on this idea he was -somewhat concerned to see the serang, who was in charge -of the deck watch, come aft and hang about near the -wheel, as though his curiosity had been aroused. Had he -any suspicions? Desmond resolved to address the man -and see what he could infer from the manner of his reply.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is all well, serang?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All well, sahib," answered the man. He stopped, and -seemed to hesitate whether to say more; but after a -moment or two he moved slowly away. Desmond watched -him. Had he discovered the trick? Would he go below -and waken Fuzl Khan? Desmond could not still a -momentary tremor. But the serang did not rejoin his -messmates, nor go below. He walked up and down the deck -alone. Apparently he suspected nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt relieved; but though he was gaining time, -he could but recognize that it seemed likely to profit him -little. A criminal going to execution may step never -so slowly across the prison yard; there is the inexorable -gallows at the end, and certain doom. Could he not force -matters, Desmond wondered? It was evidently to be a -contest, whether of wits or of physical strength, between -himself and the Gujarati. Without one or other the vessel -could not be safely navigated; if he could in some way -overcome the ringleader, he felt pretty sure that the crew -would accept the result and all difficulty would be at -an end. But how could he gain so unmistakable an -ascendency? In physical strength Fuzl Khan was more -than his match: there was no doubt of the issue of a -struggle if it were a matter of sheer muscular power. -For a moment he thought of attempting to enlist the -Marathas on his side. They were Hindus; the Gujarati -was a Muslim; and they must surely feel that, once he -was among his co-religionists in Cutch, in some pirate -stronghold, they would run a very poor chance of getting -fair treatment. But he soon dismissed the idea. The -Gujarati must seem to them much more formidable than -the stripling against whom he was plotting. The Hindu, -even more than the average human being elsewhere, is -inclined to attach importance to might and bulk--even -to mere fat. If he sounded the Marathas, and, their fear -of the Gujarati outweighing their inevitable distrust of him -as a Firangi, they betrayed him to curry a little favour, -there was no doubt that the fate both of himself and the -Babu would instantly be decided. He must trust to -himself alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While he was still anxiously debating the matter with -himself his eye caught the two muskets lashed to the -wooden framework supporting the wheel. He must leave -no hostages to fortune. Taking advantage of a lull in the -wind he steadied the wheel with his body, and with some -difficulty drew the charges and dropped them into the sea. -If it came to a tussle the enemy would certainly seize the -muskets; it would be worth something to Desmond to -know that they were not loaded. It was, in truth, but -a slight lessening of the odds against him; and as he -restored the weapons to their place he felt once more how -hopeless his position remained.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Thus pondering and puzzling, with no satisfaction, he -spent the full period of his term of duty. At the appointed -time Fuzl Khan came to relieve him. It was now full -daylight; but, scanning the horizon with a restless eye, -Desmond saw no sign of land, nor the sail of any vessel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No land yet, sahib?" said the Gujarati, apparently in -surprise.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, as you see."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you set the course by the stars, sahib?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh yes; the grab must have been going slower than -we imagined."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The wind has not shifted?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very little. I have had to tack several times."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man grunted, and looked at Desmond, frowning -suspiciously; but Desmond met his glance boldly, and -said, as he left to go below:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Be sure to have me called the moment you sight land."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went below, threw himself into his hammock, and -being dead tired, was soon fast asleep.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some hours later he was called by the Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sahib, they say land is in sight at last. I am indeed -thankful. To the landlubber the swell of waves causes -nauseating upheaval."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis good news indeed," said Desmond, smiling. -"Come on deck with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They went up together. The vessel was bowling along -under a brisk south-wester, which he found had been -blowing steadily almost from the moment he had left the -helm. The land was as yet but a dim line on the horizon; -it was necessary to stand in much closer if any of the -landmarks were to be recognized. He took the wheel; -the shade on the sea-line gradually became more definite; -and in the course of an hour they opened up a fort -somewhat similar in appearance to that of Gheria. All the -ship's company were now on deck, looking eagerly shorewards.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know the place?" asked Desmond of the -Gujarati unconcernedly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man gazed at it intently for a minute or so.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sahib; it is Suvarndrug," he said. "Is it not, -Nanna?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, of a truth; it is Suvarndrug; I was there a -month ago," replied the Maratha.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you say, Gulam?" he continued, turning to -one of the Biluchis standing near.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Suvarndrug. I have seen it scores of times. -No one can mistake Suvarndrug. See, there is the hill; -and there is the mango grove. Oh yes, certainly it is -Suvarndrug."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment four grabs were seen beating out of -the harbour. Fuzl Khan uttered an exclamation; then, -turning to Desmond, he said with a note of anxiety:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is best to put about at once, sahib. See the grabs! -They may be enemies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's heart gave a jump; his pulse beat more -quickly under the stress of a sudden inspiration. He -felt convinced that the fortress was not Suvarndrug; -the Gujarati's anxiety to pile up testimony to the -contrary was almost sufficient in itself to prove that. If -not Suvarndrug it was probably one of Angria's -strongholds, possibly Kolaba. In that case the grabs now -beating out were certainly the Pirate's, and the men -knew it. Here was an opportunity, probably the only -one that would occur, of grappling with the mutiny. -The crew would be torn by conflicting emotions; with -the prospect of recapture by Angria their action would be -paralyzed; if he could take advantage of their -indecision he might yet gain the upper hand. It was a risky -venture; but the occasion was desperate. He could -afford for the present to neglect the distant grabs, for -none of the vessels on the coast could match the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span> -in speed, and bend all his energies upon the more serious -danger on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely it cannot be Suvarndrug?" he said, with an -appearance of composure that he was far from feeling. -"Suvarndrug, you remember, has been captured. The -last news at Gheria was that it was in the Company's -hands, though there was a rumour that it might be handed -over to the Peshwa. We should not now see Angria's -grabs coming out of Suvarndrug. But if it is Suvarndrug, -Fuzl Khan, why put about? As fugitives from Gheria -we should be assured of a welcome at Suvarndrug. We -should be as safe there as at Bombay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Gujarati was none too quick-witted. He was -patently taken aback, and hesitated for a reply. The grab -was standing steadily on her course shorewards. -Desmond was to all appearance unconcerned; but the crew -were looking at one another uneasily, and the Gujarati's -brow was darkening, his fidgettiness increasing. -Surendra Nath was the only man among the natives who showed -no anxiety. He was leaning on the taffrail, gazing almost -gloatingly at the land, and paying no heed to the strange -situation around him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was watching the Gujarati keenly. The man's -manner fully confirmed his suspicions, and even in the -tenseness of the moment he felt a passing amusement at -the big fellow's puzzle-headed attempts to invent an -explanation that would square with the facts. Failing to -hit upon a plausible argument, he began to bluster.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You, Firangi, heed what I say. It is not for us to -run risks: the hind does not walk open-eyed into the -tiger's mouth. The grab must be put about immediately, or----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who is in command?" asked Desmond quietly; "you or I?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We share it. I can navigate as well as you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You forget our arrangement in Gheria. You agreed -that I should command."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, but at the pleasure of the rest. We are ten; we -will have our way; the grab must be put about, at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not by me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt what was coming and braced himself to -meet it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then things happened with startling rapidity. The -Gujarati, with a yell of rage, made a rush towards the wheel. -Knowing what to expect Desmond slipped behind it and -with a few light leaps gained the deck forward. Fuzl -Khan shouted to the serang to take the helm and steer -the vessel out to sea; then set off in headlong pursuit of -Desmond, who had now turned and stood awaiting the -attack. The Gujarati did not even trouble to draw his -knife. He plunged at him like a bull, shouting that he -would deal with the pig of a Firangi as he had dealt with -the sentinel at Gheria.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not for nothing that Desmond had fought a -dozen battles for the possession of Clive's desk at school, -and a dozen more for the honour of the school against the -town; that his muscles had been developed by months of -hard work at sea and harder work in the dockyard at -Gheria. Deftly dodging the man's blind rush, he planted -his bare feet firmly and threw his whole weight into a -terrific body blow that sent the bigger man with a thud -to the deck. Panting, breathless, trembling with fury, -Fuzl Khan sprang to his feet, caught sight of the muskets, -and tearing one from its fastenings raised it to his shoulder. -Desmond seized the moment with a quickness that spoke -volumes for his will's absolute mastery of his body. As -the man pulled the harmless trigger, Desmond leapt at -him; a crashing blow beneath the chin sent him staggering -against the wheel; a second while he tottered brought -him limp and almost stunned to the deck.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 61%" id="figure-39"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="A SHORT WAY WITH MUTINEERS." src="images/img-198.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">A SHORT WAY WITH MUTINEERS.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the crew had looked on for a few breathless -moments in amazement at this sudden turn of affairs. -But as the Gujarati fell Desmond heard a noise behind -him. Half turning, he saw Shaik Abdullah rushing -towards him with a marlinspike. The man had him at -a disadvantage, for he was breathless from his tussle with -Fuzl Khan; but at that moment a dark object hurtled -through the air, striking this new antagonist at the back -of the head, and hurling him a lifeless lump into the -scuppers. Desmond looked round in wonderment: who -among the crew had thus befriended him so opportunely? -His wonder was not lessened when he saw the Babu, -trembling like a leaf, his eyes blazing, his dusky face -indescribably changed. At the sight of Desmond's peril -the Bengali, forgetting his weakness, exalted above his -timidity, had caught up with both hands a round -nine-pounder shot that lay on deck, and in a sudden strength -of fury had hurled it at the Biluchi. His aim was fatally -true; the man was killed on the spot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With his eyes Desmond thanked the Babu; there was -no time for words. The hostile grabs were undoubtedly -making chase. They had separated, with the intention -of bearing down upon and overhauling the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span> in -whatever direction she might flee. Fuzl Khan still lay -helpless upon the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Secure that man," said Desmond to two of the crew. -He spoke curtly and sternly, with the air of one who -expected his orders to be executed without question; -though he felt a touch of anxiety lest the men should still -defy him. But they went about their task instantly -without a word: Desmond's bold stand, and the swift -overthrow of the big Gujarati, had turned the tide in his favour, -and he thrilled with relief and keen pleasure that he was -master of the situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the ringleader of the mutineers was being firmly -bound, Desmond turned to Nanna and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, answer me at once. What is that place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is Kolaba, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is Kolaba?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two or three miles south of Bombay, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good. Run up the fore-topsail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went to the wheel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, serang. I will relieve you. Go forward -and see that the men crowd on all sail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mutiny had been snuffed out; the men went about -their work quietly, with the look of whipped dogs; and -barring accidents Desmond knew that before long he -would make Bombay and be safe. With every stitch -of canvas set, the vessel soon showed that she had the -heels of her pursuers. Before she could draw clear, two -of them came within range with their bow-chasers, and -their shot whistled around somewhat too close to be -comfortable. But she steadily drew ahead, and ere long it -was seen that the four grabs were being hopelessly -outpaced. They kept up the chase for the best part of an -hour, but as they neared the British port they recognized -that they were running into danger and had the discretion -to draw off.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now that the pursuit was over Desmond ventured to -steer due north-east, and the coast line became more -distinctly visible. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon, -judging by the height of the sun, when the serang, -pointing shorewards, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is Bombay, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are sure?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; I know it by the cluster of palmyra trees. No -one can mistake them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Moment by moment the town and harbour came more -clearly into view. Desmond saw an extensive castle, a -flag flying on its pinnacled roof, set amid a green mass of -jungle and cocoa-nut forest, with a few Portuguese-built -houses dotted here and there. In front a narrow jungle-clad -island, called, as he afterwards learnt, Old Woman -Island, stretched like a spit into the sea. To the south -of the fort was the Bunder pier, with the warehouses at -the shore end. Southward of these were the hospital and -the doctor's house overlooking the harbour, while hard by -were the marine yard and the docks ensconced behind the -royal bastion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Feeling that he had nothing more to fear, Desmond -ordered Fuzl Khan to be cast loose and brought to him. -The man wore a look of sullen surprise, which Desmond -cheerfully ignored.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Fuzl Khan," he said, "we are running into -Bombay harbour. You know the channel?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man grunted a surly affirmative.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you will take the helm, and steer us in to the -most convenient moorings."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He turned away, smiling at the look of utter consternation -on the Gujarati's face. To be trusted after his -treacherous conduct was evidently more than the man -could understand. The easy unconcern with which -Desmond walked away had its effect on the crew. When -orders were given to take in sail they carried them out -with promptitude, and Desmond chuckled as he saw them -talking to one another in low tones and discussing him, -as he guessed by their glances in his direction. The -Gujarati performed his work at the helm skilfully, and -about five o'clock, when the sun was setting, casting a -romantic glow over the long straggling settlement, the -</span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span> ran to her anchorage among a host of small -craft, within a few cables-lengths of the vessels of Admiral -Watson's squadron, which had arrived from Madras a few -weeks before.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-seventeenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero finds himself among -friends; and Colonel Clive prepares to -astonish Angria.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The entrance of a strange grab had not passed unnoticed. -Before the anchor had been dropped, the superintendent -of marine put off in a toni.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What grab is that?" he shouted in Urdu, as he came -alongside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span>, sir," replied Desmond in English.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh! what! who in the name of Jupiter are you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You'd better come aboard, sir, and I'll explain," said -Desmond with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The superintendent mounted the side, rapping out sundry -exclamations of astonishment that amused Desmond not -a little.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't talk like a native! H'm! Queer! Turn him -inside out! No nonsense!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, here I am," he added, stepping up to Desmond. -"My name's Johnson, and I'm superintendent of marine. -Now then, explain; no nonsense!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond liked the look of the little man. He was short -and stout, with a very large red face, a broad turn-up nose, -and childlike blue eyes that bespoke confidence at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My name is Desmond Burke, sir, and I've run away -from Gheria in this grab."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The deuce you have!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir. I've been a prisoner there for six months -and more, and we got off a few nights ago in the darkness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm! Any more Irishmen aboard?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not that I'm aware of, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you got away from Gheria, did you? You're the -first that ever I heard did so. Nothing to do with -Commodore James, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir. I don't know what you mean."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Commodore James started t'other day to take a -good sea-look at Gheria. There's an expedition getting -ready to draw that rascally Pirate's teeth. You saw -nothing of the squadron? No nonsense, now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a thing, sir. We were blown out to sea, and I -suppose the Commodore passed us in the night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"H'm! Very likely. And you weathered that storm, -did you? Learnt your seamanship, eh?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Picked up a little on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, sir. I was -ship's boy aboard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mighty queer ship's boy!" said Mr. Johnson in an -audible aside. "The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent's</em><span> a villainous -interloper; how came you aboard of her?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was in a sense tricked into it, sir, and when we got -to Gheria Captain Barker and Mr. Diggle the supercargo -sold me to Angria."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sold you to the Pirate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And where do you hail from, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shropshire, sir; my father was Captain Richard Burke, -in the Company's service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jupiter! You're Dick Burke's son! Gad, sir, give -me your hand; I knew Dick Burke; many's the sneaker -of Bombay punch we've tossed off together. No nonsense -about Dick; give me your fist. And so you sneaked out -of Gheria and sailed this grab, eh? Well, you're a chip of -the old block, and a credit to your old dad. I want to -hear all about this. And you'll have to come ashore and -see the Governor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's very kind of you, Mr. Johnson, but really I can't -appear before the Governor in this rig."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced ruefully at his bare legs and feet and tattered -garments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, you en't very ship-shape, but we'll soon alter -that. Ever use a razor?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet, sir," replied Desmond with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thought not. Plenty of native barbers. You must -get shaved. And I'll rig you up in a suit of some sort. -You must see the Governor at once, and no nonsense."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What about the grab, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Leave that to me. You've got a pretty mixed crew, -I see. All escaped prisoners too?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All but four."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And not one of 'em to be trusted, I'll swear. Well -I'll put a crew aboard to take charge. Come along; -there's no time to lose. Colonel Clive goes to bed early."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Colonel Clive! Is he here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; arrived from home two days ago. Ah! that -reminds me; you're a Shropshire lad; so's he; do you -know him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir; I've seen him; I--I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond stammered, remembering his unfortunate -encounter with Clive in Billiter Street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well," said the superintendent, with a quizzical -look; "you'll see him again. Come along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond accompanied Mr. Johnson on shore. A crowd -had gathered. There were sepoys in turban, cabay,[#] and -baggy drawers; bearded Arabs; Parsis in their square -brimless hats; and a various assortment of habitués of the -shore--crimps, landsharks, badmashes,[#] bunder[#] gangs. -Seeing Desmond hold his nose at the all-prevailing stench -of fish Mr. Johnson laughed.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Cloak.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Rowdy characters.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Port.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"You'll soon get used to that," he said. "'Tis all -fish-oil and bummaloes[#] in Bombay."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Small fish the size of smelt, known when dried as -"Bombay duck."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Having sent a trustworthy crew on board the Tremukji, -the superintendent led Desmond to his house near the -docks. Here, while a native barber plied his dexterous -razor on Desmond's cheeks and chin, Mr. Johnson -searched through a miscellaneous hoard of clothes in one -of his capacious presses for an outfit. He found garments -that proved a reasonable fit, and Desmond, while dressing, -gave a rapid sketch of his adventures since he left the -prison-shed in Gheria.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My wigs, but you've had a time of it. Mutiny and -all! Dash my buttons, here's a tale for the ladies! Let -me look at you. Yes, you'll do now, and faith you're a -pretty fellow. And Dick Burke's son! You've got his -nose to a T; no nonsense about that. Now you're ready -to make your bow to Mr. Bourchier. He's been a coursing -match with Colonel Clive and Mr. Watson[#] up Malabar -Hill, and we'll catch him before he sits down to supper. -How do you feel inside, by the way? Ready for a decent -meal after the Pirate's hog's wash, eh?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] It was customary to use the title Mr. in speaking to or of -both naval and military officers.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I'm quite comfortable inside," said Desmond smiling, -"but, to tell you the truth, Mr. Johnson, I feel mighty -uneasy outside. After six months of the dhoti these -breeches and things seem just like bandages."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It en't the first time you've been swaddled, if you had -a mother. Well now, if you're ready. What! That -rascal gashed you? Tuts! 'tis a scratch. Can't wait to -doctor that. Come on."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two made their way into the fort enclosure, and -walked rapidly to Government House in the centre. In -answer to Mr. Johnson the darwan[#] at the door said that -the Governor would not return that night. After the -coursing match he was giving a supper party at his country -house at Parel.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Doorkeeper.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"That's a nuisance. But we can't have any nonsense. -The Governor's a bit of an autocrat; too much starch in -his shirt, I say; but we'll go out to Parel and beard him, -by Jove! 'Tis only five miles out, and we'll drive there in -under an hour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Turning away he hurried out past the tank-house on to -the Green, and by good luck found an empty shigram[#] -waiting to be hired. Desmond mounted the vehicle with no -little curiosity. These great beasts with their strange -humps would surely not cover five miles in less than an -hour. But he was undeceived when they started. The -two sturdy oxen trotted along at a good pace in obedience -to the driver's goad, and the shigram rattled across -Bombay Green, past the church and the whitewashed -houses of the English merchants, their oyster-shell -windows already lit up; and in some forty-five minutes entered -a long avenue leading to Mr. Bourchier's country house. -Twice during the course of the journey Desmond was -interested to see the shigramwallah[#] pull his team up, -dismount, and, going to their heads, insert his hand in -their mouths.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Carriage like a palanquin on wheels.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Wallah is a personal affix, denoting a close connexion -between the person and the thing described by the main -word. Shigramwallah thus=carriage-driver.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What does he do that for?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To clear their throats, to be sure. When the beasts -go at this pace they make a terrible lot of foam, and if he -didn't swab it out they'd choke, and no nonsense. Well, -here we are. Dash my wig, won't his Excellency open his -eyes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Since their departure from the fort the sky had become -quite dark. At the end of the avenue they could see the -lights of Governor Bourchier's bungalow, and by and by -caught sight of figures sitting on the veranda. Desmond's -heart beat high; he made no doubt that one of them was -Clive; the moment to which he had looked forward so -eagerly was at last at hand. He was in no dreamland; -his dream had come true. He felt a little nervous at -the prospect of meeting men so famous, so immeasurably -above him, as Clive and Admiral Watson; but with Clive -he felt a bond of union in his birthplace, and it was with -recovered confidence that he sprang out of the cart and -accompanied Mr. Johnson to the bungalow. He was -further reassured by a jolly laugh that rang out just as -he reached the steps leading up to the veranda.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hallo, Johnson!" said a voice, "what does this mean?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've come to see the Governor, Captain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you couldn't have come at a worse time. The -supper's half an hour late, and you know what that means -to the Governor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Johnson smiled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He'll forget his supper when he has heard my news. -'Tis about the Pirate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that?" said another voice. "News of the Pirate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mr. Watson. This young gentleman----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But he was interrupted by the khansaman,[#] who came -out at this moment and with a salaam announced that -supper was served.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Butler.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"You'd better come in, Johnson," said the first speaker. -"Any news of the Pirate will be sauce to Mr. Bourchier's -goose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The gentlemen rose from their seats, and went into the -house, followed by Desmond and the superintendent. In -a moment Desmond found himself in a large room -brilliantly lighted with candles. In the centre was a round -table, and Mr. Bourchier, the Governor, was placing his -guests. He did not look very pleasant, and when he saw -Mr. Johnson he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You come at a somewhat unseasonable hour, sir. -Cannot your business wait till the morning?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I made bold to come, your Excellency, because 'tis a -piece of news the like of which no one in Bombay has ever -heard before. This young gentleman, Mr. Desmond -Burke, son of Captain Burke, whom you'll remember, -sir, has escaped from Gheria."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Governor and his guests were by this time -seated, and instantly all eyes were focussed on -Desmond, and exclamations of astonishment broke from -their lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed! Bring chairs, Hossain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the native attendants left the room noiselessly, -and returning with chairs placed them at the table.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sit down, gentlemen. That is amazing news, as you -say, Mr. Johnson. Perhaps Mr. Burke will relate his -adventure as we eat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond took the chair set for him. The guests were -five. Two of them wore the laced coats of admirals; the -taller, a man of handsome presence, with a round chubby -face, large eyes, small full lips, his head crowned by a neat -curled wig, was Charles Watson, in command of the -British fleet; the other was his second, Rear-Admiral -Pocock. A third was Richard King, captain of an -Indiaman, in a blue coat with velvet lappets and gold -embroidery, buff waistcoat and breeches. Next him sat a -jolly red-faced gentleman in plain attire, and between him -and the Governor was Clive himself, whose striking -face--the lawyer's brow, the warrior's nose and chin, the -dreamer's mouth--would have marked him out in any -company.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond began his story. The barefooted attendants -moved quietly about with the dishes, but the food was -almost neglected as the six gentlemen listened to the clear, -low voice telling of the escape from the fort, the capture -of the grab, and the eventful voyage to Bombay harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By George! 'tis a famous adventure," exclaimed -Admiral Watson, when the story was ended. "What -about this Pirate's den? Gheria fort is said to be -impregnable; what are the chances if we attack, eh? The -approaches to the harbour, now; do you know the depth -of water?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Vessels can stand in to three fathoms water, sir. -Seven fathoms is within point-blank shot of the fort. The -walls are about fifty feet high; there are twenty-seven -bastions, and they mount more than two hundred guns."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And the opposite shore?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A flat tableland, within distance for bombarding. A -diversion might be made from there while the principal -attack could be carried on in the harbour, or from a hill -south of the fort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is the landing easy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir. There are three sandy bays under the hill, -without any surf to make landing difficult. One is out -of the line of fire from the fort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what about the land side? There's a town, is -there not?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"On a neck of land, sir. There's a wall, but nothing -to keep out a considerable force. If an attack were made -from that side the people would, I think, flock into the -fort."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And is that as strong as rumour says?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis pretty strong, sir; there are double walls, and -thick ones; they'd stand a good battering."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems to me, Admiral," said the red-faced -gentleman, with a laugh, "that you've learnt all you sent -Commodore James to find out. What do you say, Mr. Clive?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It seems so, Mr. Merriman. But I think, Mr. Watson, -in our eagerness to learn something of Gheria, we must -seem somewhat cavalier to this lad, whose interest in our -plans cannot be equal to our own. You have shown, sir," -he added, addressing Desmond, "great spirit and courage, -not less ingenuity, in your daring escape from the Pirate. -But I want to go farther back. How came you to fall into -the Pirate's hands? You have told us only part of your -story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, indeed," said Mr. Bourchier. "If you are not -tired, we shall be vastly pleased to hear more, Mr. Burke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your name is Burke?" interrupted Clive. "I had not -before caught it. May I ask what part of Ireland you -come from, sir? Pardon me, but your accent smacks -more of Shropshire than of County Dublin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis Shropshire, sir; I come from Market Drayton." -("Like yourself!" his glowing cheeks and flashing eyes -seemed to say. This was the proudest moment in -Desmond's life as yet.)</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was not mistaken," said Clive. "I remember a -schoolfellow of mine of your name; let me see----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Richard Burke, sir, my brother; my father was -Captain Burke in the Company's service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure I have it now. I remember him: a tall, fine old -sea-dog whom I saw at times in Market Drayton when I -was a child. I had a great awe of Captain Burke--i' faith -the only man I was afraid of. And you are his son!--But -come, I am interrupting your story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond spoke of his longing for adventure, which had -led him to leave home in search of fortune. He glossed -over his brother's ill-treatment. He told how he had been -inveigled on board the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, and handed over to -Angria when the vessel arrived at Gheria. He mentioned -no names except that of Captain Barker, though he could -not have explained his motive in keeping silence about -Diggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Barker is a villain, ripe for the gallows," said Captain -King. "But Mr. Burke, I don't understand how you -came to be so hoodwinked in London. Sure you must -have known that a boy without an ounce of experience -would never be made supercargo. Had you any enemies -in London?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I didn't know that I had, sir, till the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> -had sailed. I was deceived, but the man who promised -me the berth was very friendly, and I didn't suspect him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was not Barker, then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir; it was a man I met at Market Drayton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At Market Drayton?" said Clive. "That's odd. -What was his name?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His name was Diggle, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A stranger? I remember no one of that name," said Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought he was a stranger, sir; but of late I have -begun to suspect he was not such a stranger as he seemed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did you meet him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Accidentally, sir, the night of your banquet in Market -Drayton."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed! 'Tis all vastly curious. Was he lodging in -the town?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He came in from Chester that night and lodged at the -</span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"With that disreputable sot Grinsell----" Clive paused. -"Did he tell you anything about himself?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very little, sir, except that he'd been unlucky. I -think he mentioned once that he was a fellow at a -Cambridge college, but he spoke to me most about India."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he put his questions Clive leant forward, and seemed -to become more keenly interested with every answer. He -now turned and gave a hard look at the bluff man whom -he had called Mr. Merriman. The rest of the company -were silent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you happen to know whether he went up to the -Hall?" asked Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sir Willoughby's? I met him several times walking -in that neighbourhood, but I don't think he went to the -Hall. He did not appear to know Sir Willoughby.--And -yet, sir, I remember now that I heard Diggle and Grinsell -talking about the Squire the night I first saw them together -at the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you were with this--Diggle, in London, Mr. Burke?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond began to feel uncomfortable. Clive had -evidently not recognized him before, and he was hoping -that the unfortunate incident in Billiter Street would not be -recalled. Clive's next words made him wish to sink into -the floor.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you remember, Mr. Burke, in London, throwing -yourself in the way of a gentleman that was in pursuit of -your friend Mr. Diggle, and bringing him to the ground?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, I did, and I am sorry for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond did not like the grim tone of Clive's voice; he -wished he would address him as "my lad" instead of -"Mr. Burke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That was a bad start, let me say, Mr. Burke--an -uncommonly bad start."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh come, Mr. Clive!" broke in Mr. Merriman, "say -no more about that. The boy was in bad company: 'twas -not his fault. In truth, 'twas my own fault: I am -impetuous; the sight of that scoundrel was too much for me. -I bear you no grudge, my lad, though I had a bump on -my head for a week afterwards. Had you not tripped me -I should have run my rapier through the villain, and there -would like have been an end of me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Shall I tell the boy, Mr. Merriman?" said Clive in -an undertone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not now, not now," said Merriman quickly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other gentlemen, during this dialogue, had been -discussing the information they had gained about Gheria.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well," said Clive, "you are lucky, let me tell you, -Mr. Burke, to be out of this Diggle's clutches. By the way, -have you seen him since he sold you to the Pirate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He came a few days before I escaped, and wanted me -to come here as a spy. Angria promised me my freedom -and a large sum of money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What's that?" cried Merriman. "Wanted you to -come as a spy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what did you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I told him he might do it himself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A palpable hit!" said Merriman with a grim laugh, -"and a very proper answer. But he'll have more respect -for his skin."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gentlemen," put in Mr. Bourchier, "we have kept -Mr. Burke talking so much that he hasn't had a mouthful -of food. I think we might go out on the veranda and -smoke our cheroots while he takes some supper. Mr. Johnson, -you've done most justice to my viands, I think. Perhaps -you will join us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The superintendent became purple in the face. He had -in fact been eating and drinking with great gusto, taking -advantage of the preoccupation of the company to ensure -that the excellent fare should not be wasted. He rose -hurriedly, and, with a sheepish look that scarcely fitted -his cheerful features, followed his sarcastic host to the -veranda. All the guests save Mr. Merriman accompanied -Mr. Bourchier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They all want to talk shop--this expedition against -the Pirate," said Mr. Merriman. "You and I can have -a little chat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was attracted by the open face of his new -acquaintance, slightly disfigured, as he noticed, by a long -scar on the left temple.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're plucky and lucky," continued Merriman, "and -in spite of what Mr. Clive calls your bad start in bowling -me over, you'll do well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His face clouded as he went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That man Diggle: why should he have sold you to the -Pirate: what had he against you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot imagine, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are lucky to have escaped him, as Mr. Clive said. -I think--yes, I will tell you about him. His name is not -Diggle; it is Simon Peloti. He is a nephew of Sir -Willoughby. His mother married a Greek, against her -brother's wish; the man died when the child was a year -old. As a boy Peloti was as charming a little fellow as -one could wish: handsome, high-spirited, clever. He did -well at school, and afterwards at Cambridge: won a -fellowship there. Then he went to the dogs--not all at once; -men never do. He was absolutely without principle, and -thought of nothing but his own ease and success. One -thing led to another; at last, in the '45----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He paused. After a moment he went on:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had a brother, my lad----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stopped again, his face expressing poignant grief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know, sir," said Desmond. "Sir Willoughby told me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He told you! And he did not mention Peloti?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir; but I see it all now. It was Diggle--Peloti, -I mean--who betrayed your brother. I understand now -why the Squire took no steps against Grinsell. His -accomplice was Diggle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He related the incident of the housebreakers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes," said Merriman, "that throws a light on things. -Peloti, I imagine, had previously seen the Squire, and -tried to get money from him. Sir Willoughby refused: -he gave him a thousand pounds ten years ago on -condition he left the country and did not return. So the -villain resolved to rob him. 'Twas fortunate indeed you -appeared in time. That is the reason for his hating you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There was another, sir," said Desmond with some -hesitation. "He thought I was hankering after the -Squire's property--aiming at becoming his heir. 'Twas -ridiculous, sir; such an idea never entered my head."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I see. Peloti came to India and got employment in -the Company's service at Madras. But he behaved so -badly that he had to be turned out--he said Mr. Clive -hounded him out. What became of him after that I -don't know. But let us leave the miserable subject. Tell -me, what are your ideas? What are you going to do -now that you are a free man once more? Get another -berth as supercargo?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His eyes twinkled as he said this.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No thank you, sir; once bit twice shy. I haven't -really thought of anything definite, but what I should like -best of all would be a cadetship under Colonel Clive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Soho! You're a fighter, are you? But of course you -are; I have reason to know that. Well, we'll see what -my friend Mr. Clive says. You've no money, I suppose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a halfpenny, sir; but if the Governor will admit -that the grab is my lawful prize, I thought of selling her; -that will bring me a few pounds."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Capital idea. Punctilio won't stand in the way of -that, I should think. Well now, I'll speak to Mr. Clive -for you, but don't build too much on it. He cannot give -you a commission, I fear, without the authority of the -Governor of Madras; and though no doubt a word from -him would be effectual, he's a very particular man, and -you'll have to prove you're fit for a soldier's life. -Meanwhile, what do you say to this? I've taken a fancy to -you. I'm a merchant; trade pays better than soldiering, -in general. I've got ships of my own, and I daresay I -could find a berth for you on one of them. You seem -to know something of navigation?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very little, sir; just what I picked up on the </span><em class="italics">Good -Intent</em><span>."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, that's a beginning. I've no doubt that Admiral -Watson will wish you to go to Gheria with him: your -knowledge of the place will be useful. He won't start -for a month or two: why not occupy the time in improving -your navigation, so that if there are difficulties about a -cadetship you'll be competent for a mate's berth? Nothing -like having two strings to your bow. What do you say -to that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis very good of you, sir; I accept with pleasure."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right. Now when you've finished that curry -we'll go out on the veranda. Before you came they were -talking of nothing but their dogs; but I wager 'tis nothing -but the Pirate now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They soon rejoined the other gentlemen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, Mr. Burke," said Admiral Watson, "we've -been talking over the information you've given us. You've -nothing to do, I suppose?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've just suggested that he should read up navigation, -Mr. Watson," said Merriman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a wizard, Mr. Merriman. I was proposing to -engage Mr. Burke to accompany us on our expedition -against the Pirate. He can make himself useful when -we get to Gheria. We'll see how James's information -tallies with his. You won't object to serve his Majesty, -Mr. Burke?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis what I should like best in the world, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. Meanwhile learn all you can; Captain -King here will take charge of you, I've no doubt."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly, Mr. Watson."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will give Mr. Burke quarters for the present, -Mr. Johnson?" said Merriman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To be sure. And as 'tis late we'd better be going. -Good night, your Excellency; good night, gentlemen."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Early next day Admiral Watson himself rode down -to the harbour to inspect the grab. He was so much -pleased with her that he offered to buy her for the service. -Before the day was out Desmond found himself in possession -of seven thousand rupees. After paying the Marathas -the wages agreed upon, he proceeded to divide the balance. -He retained two shares for himself, and gave each of the -men who had escaped with him an equal part. No one -was more surprised than Fuzl Khan when he received -his share in full. He had expected to get the -punishment he knew he well deserved. But Desmond, against -the advice of the superintendent, determined to -overlook the man's misconduct. He went further. At his -request Admiral Watson gave him a place on the grab. -The Gujarati seemed overwhelmed by this generosity on -the part of a man he had wronged, and for the nonce -breaking through his usual morose reserve, he thanked -Desmond, awkwardly indeed, but with manifest sincerity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The other men were no less delighted with their good -fortune. The sum they each received made them rich -men for life. None was more elated than Surendra Nath. -It happened that Mr. Merriman came on board to see the -grab at the moment when Desmond was distributing -the prize money. Desmond noticed a curious expression -on the Babu's face, and he was compelled to laugh when -the man, after a moment's hesitation, walked up to -Mr. Merriman, and with a strange mixture of humility and -importance said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wish you a very good morning, your honour."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good gad!--Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti! I'm -uncommonly glad to see you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He shook hands warmly, a mark of condescension which -made the Babu beam with gratification.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why," continued Merriman, "we'd given you up -for dead long ago. So you're the plucky and ingenious -fellow who did so much to help Mr. Burke in the famous -escape! Surendra Nath was one of my best clerks, -Mr. Burke. His father is my head clerk for Company's -business. He hasn't been the same man since you -disappeared. You must tell me your story. Come up to -Mr. Bowman's house on the Green to-night; I am staying -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall be most glad to return to my desk in Calcutta, -your honour," said the Babu. "But I do not like the -sea. It has no sympathy with me. I think of -accomplishing the journey by land."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good heavens, man! it would take you a year at the -least, if you wasn't swallowed by a tiger or strangled -by a Thug on the way. You'll have to go by water, as -you came."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu's face fell.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is the fly in the ointment, your honour. But I -will chew majum and bestow myself in the cabin; thus -perhaps I may avoid squeamishness. By the kindness of -Burke Sahib I have a modicum of money, now a small -capital; and I hope, with your honour's permission, to do -trifling trade for myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly," said Merriman with a laugh. "You'll -be a rich man yet, Surendra Nath. Well, don't forget; -you'll find me at Mr. Bowman's on the Green at eight -o'clock."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-eighteenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Angria is astonished; and our hero -begins to pay off old scores.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Time sped quickly. Desmond made the best use of his -opportunities of learning navigation under Captain King -and the superintendent, and before two months had -expired was pronounced fit to act as mate on the finest -East Indiaman afloat. He took this with a grain of salt. -The fact was that his adventures, the modesty with which -he deprecated all allusions to his part in the escape from -Gheria, and the industry with which he worked, won him -the goodwill of all; he was a general favourite with the -little European community of Bombay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Apart from his study, he found plenty to interest him -in his spare moments. The strange mixture of people, -the temples and pagodas, the towers of silence on which -the Parsis exposed their dead, the burning ghats of the -Hindus on the beach, the gaunt filthy fakirs[#] and jogis -who whined and told fortunes in the streets for alms, the -exercising of the troops, the refitting and careening of -Admiral Watson's ships--all this provided endless matter -for curiosity and amusement. One thing disappointed -him. Not once during the two months did he come in -contact with Clive. Mr. Merriman remained in Bombay, -awaiting the arrival of a vessel of his from Muscat; but -Desmond was loth to ask him whether he had sounded -Clive about a cadetship. As a matter of fact Mr. Merriman -had mentioned the matter at once.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Religious mendicants (Mohammedan).</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Patience, Merriman," was Clive's reply. "I have -my eye on the youngster."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And with that the merchant, knowing his friend, was -very well content; but he kept his own counsel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At length, one day in the first week of February 1756, -Desmond received a summons to visit the Admiral. His -interview was brief. He was directed to place himself -under the orders of Captain Latham on the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span>; the -fleet was about to sail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was a bright, cool February morning, cool, that is, -for Bombay, when the vessels weighed anchor and sailed -slowly out of the harbour. All Bombay lined the shores: -natives of every hue and every mode of attire; English -merchants; ladies fluttering white handkerchiefs. Such -an expedition had never been undertaken against the -noted Pirate before, and the report of Commodore James, -confirming the information brought by Desmond, had -given the authorities good hope that this pest of the -Malabar coast was at last to be destroyed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was an inspiriting sight as the vessels, rounding the -point, made under full sail to the south. There were six -line-of-battle ships, six Company's vessels, five -bomb-ketches, four Maratha grabs--one of them Angria's own -grab, the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span>, on which Desmond had escaped--and -forty gallivats. The </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> led the van. Admiral -Watson's flag was hoisted on the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, Admiral Pocock's on -the </span><em class="italics">Cumberland</em><span>. On board the fleet were 200 European -soldiers, 300 sepoys, and 300 Topasses--mainly half-caste -Portuguese in the service of the Company, owing their -name to the topi[#] they wore. To co-operate with this force -a land army of 12,000 Marathas, horse and foot, under the -command of Ramaji Punt, one of the Peshwa's generals, -had been for some time investing the town of Gheria.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hat.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At this time of year the winds were so slight and -variable that it was nearly a week before the fleet arrived -off Gheria. When the bastions of the fort hove into -sight Desmond could not help contrasting his feelings -with those of two months before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like the look of your cage, Mr. Burke?" said Captain -Latham at his elbow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was just thinking of it, sir," said Desmond. "It -makes a very great difference when you're outside the bars."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And we'll break those bars before we're much older, -or I'm a Dutchman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At this moment the signal to heave-to was seen flying -at the masthead of the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>. Before the vessels had -anchored one of the grabs left the main fleet and ran into -the harbour. It bore a message from Admiral Watson to -Tulaji Angria, summoning him to surrender. The answer -returned was that if the Admiral desired to be master of -the fort he must take it by force, as Angria was resolved -to defend it to the last extremity. The ships remained at -anchor outside the harbour during the night. Next morning -a boat put off from the town end of the fort conveying -several of Angria's relatives and some officers of Ramaji -Punt's army. It by and by became known that Tulaji -Angria, leaving his brother in charge of the fort, had -given himself up to Ramaji Punt, and was now a prisoner -in his camp. The visitors had come ostensibly to view -the squadron, but really to discover what were Admiral -Watson's intentions in regard to the disposal of the fort -supposing it fell into his hands. The Admiral saw through -the device, which was no doubt to hand the fort over to -the Peshwa's general, and so balk the British of their -legitimate prize. Admiral Watson made short work of -the visitors. He told them that if Angria would surrender -his fort peaceably he and his family would be protected; -but that the fort he must have. They pleaded for a few -days' grace, but the Admiral declined to wait a single day. -If the fort was not immediately given up he would sail in -and attack it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was evident that hostilities could not be avoided. -About one in the afternoon Captain Henry Smith of the -</span><em class="italics">Kingfisher</em><span> sloop was ordered to lead the way, and Desmond -was sent to join him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is the depth under the walls, Mr. Burke?" the -Captain asked him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Three and a half fathoms, sir--deep enough to float -the biggest of us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sloop weighed anchor, and stood in before the afternoon -breeze. It was an imposing sight as the fleet formed -in two divisions and came slowly in their wake. Each -ship covered a bomb-ketch, protecting the smaller vessels -from the enemy's fire. Desmond himself was kept very -busy, going from ship to ship as ordered by signals from -the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, and assisting each captain in turn to navigate the -unfamiliar harbour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was just two o'clock when the engagement began -with a shot from the fort at the </span><em class="italics">Kingfisher</em><span>. The shot was -returned, and a quarter of an hour later, while the fleet -was still under full sail, the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> flew the signal for a -general action. One by one the vessels anchored at -various points opposite the fortifications, and soon a -hundred and fifty guns were blazing away at the massive -bastions and curtains, answered vigorously by Angria's -two hundred and fifty. Desmond was all excitement. -The deafening roar of the guns, the huge columns of -smoke that floated heavily over the fort, and sometimes -enveloped the vessels, the bray of trumpets, the beating of -tom-toms, the shouts of men, set his blood tingling: and -though he afterwards witnessed other stirring scenes, he -never forgot the vivid impression of the fight at Gheria.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>About three o'clock a shell set fire to one of the Pirate's -grabs--one that had formerly been taken by him from the -Company. Leaving its moorings, it drifted among the -main fleet of pirate grabs which still lay lashed together -Where Desmond had last seen them by the blaze of the -burning gallivats. They were soon alight. The fire -rapidly spread to the dockyard, caught the unfinished -grabs on the stocks, and before long the whole of Angria's -shipping was a mass of flame.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the bombardment had made little impression -on the fortifications, and it appeared to the Admiral that -time was being wasted. Accordingly he gave orders to -elevate the guns and fire over the walls into the interior of -the fort. A shell from one of the bomb-ketches fell plump -into one of the outhouses of the palace and set it on fire. -Fanned by the west wind, the flames spread to the arsenal -and the storehouse, licking up the sheds and smaller -buildings until they reached the outskirts of the city. The -crackling of flames was now mingled with the din of -artillery, and as dusk drew on, the sky was lit up over a -large space with the red glow of burning. By half-past -six the guns on the bastions had been silenced, and the -Admiral gave the signal to cease fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Some time before this a message reached Captain Smith -ordering him to send Desmond at once on board the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>. -When he stepped on deck he found Admiral Watson in -consultation with Clive. It appeared that during the -afternoon a cloud of horsemen had been observed hovering -on a hill eastward of the city, and being by no means sure -of the loyalty of the Maratha allies, Clive had come to the -conclusion that it was time to land his troops. But it was -important that the shore and the neck of land east of the -fort should be reconnoitred before the landing was -attempted. The groves might, for all he knew, be occupied -by the Pirate's troops or by those of Ramaji Punt, and -Clive had had enough experience of native treachery to be -well on his guard.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am going to send you on a somewhat delicate -mission, Mr. Burke," he said. "You know the ground. I -want you to go quietly on shore and see first of all -whether there is safe landing for us, and then whether -the ground between the town and the fort is occupied. -Be quick and secret; I need waste no words. Mr. Watson -has a boat's crew ready."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think, sir," said Desmond, "that it will hardly be -necessary, perhaps not advisable, to take a boat's crew -from this ship. If I might have a couple of natives there -would be a good deal less risk in getting ashore."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly. But there is no time to spare; indeed, if -you are not back in a couple of hours I shall land at once. -But I should like to know what we have to expect. You -had better get a couple of men from the nearest grab."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span> is only a few cables-lengths away, sir, -and there's a man on board who knows the harbour. I -will take him, with your permission."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. Good luck go with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond saluted, and stepping into the boat which had -rowed him to the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, he was quickly conveyed to the -grab. In a few minutes he left this in a skiff, accompanied -only by Fuzl Khan and a lascar. Not till then did he -explain what he required of them. The Gujarati seemed -overcome by the selection of himself for this mission.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are kind to me, sahib," he said. "I do not -deserve it; but I will serve you to my life's end."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was in the man's tone a fervency which touched -Desmond at the time, and which he had good cause -afterwards to remember.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quarter of an hour after Desmond quitted the deck of -the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, he was put ashore at a sandy bay at the further -extremity of the isthmus, hidden from the fort by a small -clump of mango trees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Fuzl Khan," he said, "you will wait here for a -few minutes till it is quite dark, then you will row quickly -along the shore till you come to within a short distance of -the jetty. I am going across the sand up toward the fort, -and will come round to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stepped over the soft sand towards the trees and was -lost to sight. The bombardment had now ceased, and -though he heard a confused noise from the direction of the -fort, there was no sound from the town, and he concluded -that the people had fled either into the fort or away into -the country. It appeared at present that the whole stretch -of land between the town and the fort was deserted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had not walked far when he was startled by hearing, -as he fancied, a stealthy footstep following him. Gripping -in his right hand the pistol he had brought as a precaution, -and with the left loosening his sword in its scabbard, he -faced round with his back to the wall of a shed in which -Angria's ropes were made, and waited, listening intently. -But the sound, slight as it was, had ceased. Possibly it -had been made by some animal, though that seemed -scarcely likely: the noise and the glare from the burning -buildings must surely have scared away all the animals -in the neighbourhood. Finding that the sound was not -repeated, he went on again. Some minutes later, his ears -on the stretch, he fancied he caught the same soft furtive -tread: but when he stopped and listened and heard -nothing, he believed that he must have been mistaken, -and set it down as an echo of his own excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Stepping warily, he picked his way through the darkness, -faintly illumined by the distant glow of the -conflagration. He skirted the dockyard, and drew nearer to -the walls of the courtyard surrounding the fort, -remembering how, nearly twelve months before, he had come -almost the same way from the jetty with the decoy -message from Captain Barker. Then he had been a source -of amusement to crowds of natives as he passed on his -way to the palace; now the spot was deserted, and but -for the noises that reached him from distant quarters he -might have thought himself the sole living creature in -that once populous settlement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had now reached the outer wall, which was -separated from the fort only by a wide compound dotted -here and there with palm-trees. It was clear that no -force, whether of the Pirate's men or of Ramaji Punt's, -held the ground between the shore and the fort. All -the fighting men had without doubt been withdrawn -within the walls. His mission was accomplished.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had been his intention to make his way back by a -shorter cut along the outer wall, by the west side of the -dockyard, until he reached the shore near the jetty. -But standing for a moment under the shade of a palm-tree, -he hesitated to carry out his plan, for the path he -meant to follow must be lit up along its whole course -by a double glare: from the blazing buildings inside the -fort, and from the burning gallivats in the dockyard and -harbour. He was on the point of retracing his steps -when, looking over the low wall towards the fort, he -saw two dark figures approaching, moving swiftly from -tree to tree, as if wishing to escape observation. It was -too late to move now; if he left the shelter of the -palm-tree he would come distinctly into view of the two men, -and it would be unwise to risk anything that would -delay his return to Clive. Accordingly he kept well in -the shadow and waited. The stealthy movements of the -men suggested that they were fugitives, eager to get -away with whole skins before the fort was stormed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They came to the last of the palm-trees within the -wall, and paused there for a brief space. A few yards -of open ground separated them from the gate. Desmond -watched curiously, then with some anxiety, for it -suddenly struck him that the men were making for him, and -that he had actually been shadowed from his landing-place -by some one acting, strange as it seemed, in collusion with -them. On all accounts it was necessary to keep close.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Suddenly he saw the men leave the shelter of their tree -and run rapidly across the ground to the gate. Having -reached it, they turned aside into the shadow of the wall -and stood as if to recover breath. Desmond had kept -his eyes upon them all the time. Previously, in the -shade of the trees, their faces had not been clearly -distinguishable; but while now invisible from the fort, -they were lit up by the glow from the harbour. It was -with a shock of surprise that he recognized in the -fugitives the overseer of the dockyard, whose cruelties -he had so good reason to remember, and Marmaduke -Diggle, as he still must call him. The sight of the -latter set his nerves tingling; his fingers itched to take -some toll for the miseries he had endured through Diggle's -villainy. But he checked his impulse to rush forward and -confront the man. Single-handed he could not cope with -both the fugitives; and though, if he had been free, he -might have cast all prudence from him in his longing to -bring the man to book, he recollected his duty to Clive -and remained in silent rage beneath the tree.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All at once he heard a rustle behind him, a low growl -like that of an animal enraged; and almost before he -was aware of what was happening a dark figure sprang -past him, leapt over the ground with the rapidity of a -panther, and threw himself upon the overseer just as -with Diggle he was beginning to move towards the -town. There was a cry from each man, and the red -light falling upon the face of the assailant, Desmond saw -with amazement that it was the Gujarati, whom he had -supposed to be rowing along the shore to meet him. -He had hardly recognized the man before he saw that -he was at deadly grips with the overseer, both snarling -like wild beasts. There was no time for thought, for -Diggle, momentarily taken aback by the sudden -onslaught, had recovered himself and was making with -drawn sword towards the two combatants, who in their -struggle had moved away from him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond no longer stayed to weigh possibilities or -count risks. It was clear that Fuzl Khan's first -onslaught had failed; had he got home, the overseer, -powerful as he was, must have been killed on the spot. -In the darkness the Gujarati's knife had probably missed -its aim. He had now two enemies to deal with, and -but for intervention he must soon be overcome and slain. -Drawing his sword, Desmond sprang from the tree and -dashed across the open, reaching the scene of the struggle -just in the nick of time to strike up Diggle's weapon ere -it sheathed itself in the Gujarati's side. Diggle turned -with a startled oath, and seeing who his assailant was, -he left his companion to take care of himself and faced -Desmond, a smile of anticipated triumph wreathing his lips.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No word was spoken. Diggle lunged, and Desmond -at that moment knew that he was at a perilous crisis of -his life. The movements of the practised swordsman -could not be mistaken; he himself had little experience; -all that he could rely on was his quick eye and the -toughness of his muscles. He gave back, parrying the -lunge, tempted to use his pistol upon his adversary. -But now that the cannonading had ceased, a shot might -be heard by some of the Pirate's men, and before he -could escape he might be beset by a crowd of ruffians -against whom he would have no chance at all. He -could but defend himself with his sword and hope that -Diggle might overreach himself in his fury and give him -an opportunity to get home a blow.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Steel struck upon steel; the sparks flew; and the evil -smile upon Diggle's face became fixed as he saw that -Desmond was no match for him in swordsmanship. But -it changed when he found that though his young -opponent's science was at fault, his strength and dexterity, -his wariness in avoiding a close attack, served him in -good stead. Impatient to finish the fight, he took a step -forward, and lunged so rapidly that Desmond could hardly -have escaped his blade but for an accident. There was a -choking sob to his right, and just as Diggle's sword was -flashing towards him a heavy form fell against the blade -and upon Desmond. In the course of their deadly struggle -the Gujarati and the overseer had shifted their ground, -and at this moment, fortunately for Desmond, Fuzl Khan -had driven his knife into his old oppressor's heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the same accident that saved Desmond's life gave -Diggle an opportunity of which he was quick to avail -himself. Before Desmond could recover his footing, -Diggle shortened his arm and was about to drive his -sword through the lad's heart. The Gujarati saw the -movement. Springing in with uplifted knife he attempted -to turn the blade. He succeeded; he struck it upwards, -but the force with which he had thrown himself between -the two swordsmen was his undoing. Unable to check -his rush, he received the point of Diggle's sword in his -throat. With a terrible cry he raised his hands to clutch -his assailant; but his strength failed him; he swayed, -tottered, and fell gasping at Desmond's feet, beside the -lifeless overseer. Desmond saw that the turn of fortune -had given the opportunity to him. He sprang forward -as Diggle tried to recover his sword Diggle gave way: -and before he could lift his dripping weapon to parry the -stroke, Desmond's blade was through his forearm. Panting -with rage he sought with his left hand to draw his -pistol; but Desmond was beforehand with him. He -caught his arm, wrenched the pistol from him, and, -breathless with his exertions, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are my prisoner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis fate, my young friend," said Diggle, with all his -old blandness; Desmond never ceased to be amazed at the -self-command of this extraordinary man. "I have let -some blood, I perceive; my sword-arm is for the time -disabled; but my great regret at this moment--you will -understand the feeling--is that this gallant friend of yours -lies low with the wound intended for another. So Antores -received in his flank the lance hurled at Lausus: 'infelix -alieno volnere'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I dare say, Mr. Diggle," interrupted Desmond, "but -I have no time to construe Latin." Covering Diggle with -his pistol, Desmond stooped over Fuzl Khan's prostrate -body and discovered in a moment that the poor fellow's -heart had ceased to beat. He rose, and added: "I must -trouble you to come with me; and quickly, for you -perceive you are at my mercy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where do you propose to take me, my friend?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will go this way, and please step out."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle scowled, and stood as though meditating resistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, come, Mr. Diggle, you have no choice. I do -not wish to have to drag you; it might cause you pain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely you will spare a moment to an old friend! I -fear you are entirely mistaken. 'Tis pity that with the -natural ebullition of your youthful spirit you should have -set upon a man whom----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can talk as we go, Mr. Diggle, if you talk low -enough. Must I repeat it?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But where are we going? Really, Mr. Burke, respect -for my years should prompt a more considerate treatment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You see yonder point?" said Desmond impatiently--"yonder -on the shore. You will come with me there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle looked round as if hoping that even now -something might happen in his favour. But no one was in -sight; Desmond stood over him with sword still drawn; -and recognizing his helplessness the man at length turned -towards the shore and began to walk slowly along, -Desmond a foot or so in the rear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twas a most strange chance, surely," he said, "that -brought you to this spot at the very moment when I was -shaking the dust of Gheria from my feet. How impossible -it is to escape the penalty of one's wrong-doing! Old -Horace knew it: 'Raro antecedentem scelestum'--you -remember the rest. Mr. Burslem drubbed our Latin into -us, Mr. Burke. I am a fellow-townsman of yours, though -you did not know it: ay, a boy in your old school, switched -by your old master. I have treated you badly. I admit -it; but what could I do? Your brother slandered you; -I see now how he deceived me; he wished you out of his -way. Here I acted under pressure of Angria; he was bent -on sending you to Bombay; I could not defy him; -I was wrong; what you said when I saw you last made a -deep impression on me; I repented, and, as Tully, I think, -puts it, 'a change of plan is the best harbour to a -penitent man.' I was indeed seeking that refuge of the -repentant, and altering my whole plan of life; and if you will -but tarry a moment----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Keep on, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, as the man, -who had been talking over his shoulder, half-stopped: -"my point is sharp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was leaving the fort, as you saw. Not from any fear--you -will acquit me of that, and as you know, the fort is -impregnable, and I might have remained there in perfect -safety. No, I was quitting it because I was wearied, -disgusted with Angria and his ways. 'Twas under a -misapprehension I for a time consorted with him; I am -disabused, and it is by the mere malignity of Fate that at -this turning-point of my career I encounter one whom, -I acknowledge, I have wronged. I am beaten; I do not -blink that; and by a better man. But youth is generous; -and you, Mr. Burke, are not the man to press your advantage -against one who all his life has been the sport of evil -circumstance. I was bound for further India; I know a -little port to the south where I should have taken ship, with -strong hope of getting useful and honourable employment -when my voyage was ended. Perchance you have heard -of Alivirdi Khan; if you would but pause a moment----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond inexorably; "and -it will be well to mend your pace."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Alivirdi Khan," resumed Diggle, speaking more rapidly--the -waters of the harbour, glowing red, were in sight--"Alivirdi -Khan is sick unto death. He is wealthy beyond -all imaginings. His likeliest heir, Siraj-uddaula, soon to -be Subah[#] of Bengal, is well known to me, and indeed -beholden to me for services rendered in the past. -Mr. Burke, I make you a proposition--it is worth -considering. Why not come with me? Wipe off old scores, -throw in your lot with mine. Together, what could -we not do--I with my experience, you with your -youthful vigour! See, here is an earnest of my sincerity." He -took from his fob a large diamond, which flashed in -the red light of the conflagration. "Accept this; in the -treasuries of Alivirdi there are thousands like it, each -worth a king's ransom. Come with me, and I promise -you that within two years you shall be rich beyond your -wildest dreams."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Viceroy.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Put up your diamond, Mr. Peloti. You may repeat -your offer when we reach Colonel Clive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle stopped as if shot. He looked with startled eyes -at the boy, who had known him only as Diggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are going to Colonel Clive!" he exclaimed. The -smoothness of his manner was gone; his tone expressed -mortal anxiety. "But--but--he is a personal enemy; -he will--I beseech you think again; I----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He broke off, and with a suddenness that took Desmond -by surprise he sprang away, making towards the grove of -mangoes that stood between him and the shore. Desmond -was instantly in pursuit. If Diggle gained the -shelter of the trees he might escape in the darkness. But -the race was short. Weak from fear and loss of blood, -the elder was no match in speed for the younger. In less -than a hundred yards he was overtaken, and stood -panting, quivering, unnerved. Desmond gripped his -uninjured arm, and with quickened footsteps hurried him -towards the shore. There was the boat, the lascar resting -motionless on his oar. Ten minutes later Diggle was -assisted up the side of the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, and handed over to the -officer of the watch. Then Desmond made his report to -Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All the enemy are withdrawn within the fort, sir. The -whole ground between the fort and the shore is clear. -There is nothing to obstruct your landing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you. You have exceeded your time by ten -minutes. Who is that man who came aboard with you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was he who delayed me, sir. It is Mr. Diggle, or -Peloti, I should say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The deuce he is!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was stealing out of the fort; it came to a scuffle, -and he was wounded--so I brought him along."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Speke," said Clive turning to the captain, "may -I ask you to see this man safe bestowed? I will deal with -him when our business here is concluded. Mr. Burke, you -will come with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By nine o'clock Clive had landed his troops. They -bivouacked on the shore, in expectation of storming the fort -next day. At daybreak an officer was sent into the -fort with a flag of truce to demand its surrender. This -being refused, the Admiral ordered his ships to warp within -a cable's length of the walls in three fathoms and a -quarter of water, and the attack was renewed by sea and -land, Clive gradually advancing and worrying the enemy -with his cannon. At two o'clock a magazine in the fort -blew up, and not long after, just as Clive was about to -give the order to storm, a white flag was seen fluttering -at one of the bastions. A messenger was sent to the -governor to arrange the capitulation, but when he was met -by prevarication and pleas for delay the bombardment -was once more resumed. A few minutes of this sufficed -to bring the defenders to reason, and by five o'clock the -English flag flew upon the walls.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive postponed his entry until dawn on the following -morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By Jove, Mr. Burke," he said to Desmond, who showed -him the way to the palace, "if we had been within -these walls I think we could have held out till doomsday."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All the English officers were impressed by the strength -of the fortifications. Besides Angria's 250 cannon, an -immense quantity of stores and ammunition fell into the -hands of the captors. In the vaults of the palace were -found silver rupees to the value of £100,000, and treasure -worth £30,000 more. The capture had been effected with -the loss of only twenty killed and wounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond took the earliest opportunity of seeking the -body of Fuzl Khan. Fortunately the fires and the noises -of the night had preserved it from mangling by wild beasts. -The poor man lay where he had fallen, near the body of -the overseer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Poor fellow!" thought Desmond, looking at the strong, -fierce face and the gigantic frame now stiff and cold. -"Little he knew, when he said he'd serve me to his life's -end, that the end was so near."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had the body carried into the town, and reverently -buried according to Mohammedan rites. From the lascar -he had learnt all that he ever knew of the motives of the -Gujarati's action. Desmond had hardly left the boat when -the man sprang quickly after him, saying briefly: "I -go to guard the sahib." It was like the instinctive impulse -of a faithful dog; and Desmond often regretted the loss -of the man who had shown himself so capable of devotion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That evening Clive summoned Desmond to attend him -in the palace. When he entered the durbar hall, he saw -a small group seated on the dais, consisting of Clive, -Admiral Watson, and two or three subordinate officers. -Standing in front of them was Diggle, in the charge of two -marines.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How many European prisoners have been released, -Mr. Ward?" the Admiral was saying.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thirteen, sir; ten English and three Dutch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is that correct, Mr. Burke? Was that the number -when you were here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, that is correct."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then you may go, Mr. Ward, and see that the poor -fellows are taken on board the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> and well looked -after." As the officer saluted and withdrew the Admiral -turned to Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now for this white pirate," he said: "a most unpleasant -matter, truly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Signing to the marines to bring forward their prisoner, -he threw himself back upon the divan, leaving the matter -in Clive's hands. Clive was gazing hard at Diggle, who -had lost the look of terror he had worn two nights before, -and stood before them in his usual attitude of careless -ease.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You captured this man," said Clive, turning to -Desmond, "within the precincts of the fort?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His hard level tone contrasted strongly with the urbaner -manner of the Admiral.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir," replied Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is the same man who inveigled you on board the -interloper </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> and delivered you to the Pirate?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And he was to your knowledge associated with the -Pirate, and offered you inducements to spy upon His -Majesty's forces in Bombay?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have you anything to say for yourself, Mr. Peloti?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Pardon me, Mr. Clive; Diggle--Marmaduke Diggle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Diggle if you like," said Clive with a shrug. "You -will hang as well in that name as another."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One of the officers smiled at the grim jest, but there was -no smile on Clive's stern, set face.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You asked me had I anything to say for myself," said -Diggle quietly. "Assuredly; but it seems your honours -have condemned me already. Why should I waste your -time, and my breath? I bethink me 'twas not even in -Rome the custom to judge a matter before learning the -facts--'prius rem dijudicare'; but it is a long time, -Mr. Clive, since we conned our Terence together."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond could not but admire the superb insouciance -and the easy smile with which Diggle played his card. -Seeing that Clive for an instant hesitated, the intrepid -prisoner continued:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there, Mr. Clive, you never excelled in the Latin. -'Twas a sore point with poor Mr. Burslem."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, come," cried Clive, visibly nettled, "this is no -time for quips. You fail to appreciate your position. You -are caught red-handed. If you have no defence to make -you will meet the fate of other pirates before you. Have -you anything to say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. You accuse me of piracy; I have a complete -answer to that charge; but as an Englishman I claim an -Englishman's right--a fair trial before a jury of my -countrymen. In any case, Mr. Clive, it would be invidious -to give me worse treatment than Monaji Angria and his -officers. As for the rest, it depends on the evidence of this -single witness."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Here Admiral Watson bent forward and said to Clive in -an undertone, inaudible to the others:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think we had better defer this. If, as you suppose, -the fellow has knowledge of the French plans, it would be -only politic to give Mr. Bourchier an opportunity of -inquiring into the matter. No doubt he richly deserves hanging, -but </span><em class="italics">dead</em><span> men tell no tales."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive frowned, and, drumming upon the divan impatiently -with his fingers, seemed for the moment to be lost -in thought. Then he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mr. Watson, I think you are right."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Take the prisoner back to your ship," said the Admiral, -"and put him under double guard. Thank you, Mr. Burke; -we shall require your evidence in Bombay. One -word before you go. I am vastly indebted to you for -your services; you have been of the greatest use to myself -and my captains. Your name will frequently appear in -our ships' logs, and I shall take care to show your work -in the proper light when I make my report. Meanwhile, -when the division of prize-money is made, you will receive -a lieutenant's share. Good-night, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Desmond's face, as he left the room, bore a flush of -happiness and pride.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-nineteenth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE NINETEENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the scene changes; the dramatis -personæ remaining the same.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A few days after the capture, the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> left Gheria, having -on board the men wounded in the attack and the European -prisoners who had been rescued. Desmond also sailed in -her, with an official report from Admiral Watson to -Governor Bourchier.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The arrival of the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> at Bombay, with the first news -of the success of the expedition and the fall of the fortress -so long deemed impregnable, was the occasion of a great -demonstration of rejoicing. The trading community, -whether European or native, was enthusiastic over the -ruin of the notorious Pirate; and Desmond, as one who had -had a share in the operations, came in for a good deal of -congratulation which he laughingly protested ought to have -been reserved for better men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman was among the crowd that welcomed the -</span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span>, and as soon as Desmond had delivered his report -to Mr. Bourchier, the genial merchant carried him off to -the house on the Green where he was staying and insisted -on having a full account of his experiences. When he -learnt that Diggle had been captured and would shortly -reach Bombay as a prisoner, his jolly face assumed as -intense a look of vindictive satisfaction as it was capable -of expressing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder! that's the best of your news for me. The -villain will get his deserts at last. I'm only sorry that I -shall not be here to serve on the jury."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you leaving Bombay then?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and I wanted you to come with me. My ship the -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> came to port two days ago, and I had to -dismiss the second mate, who was continually at odds with -the lascars. I hoped you would accept his berth, and sail -with me. I want to get back to Calcutta. We had -advices the other day that things are not looking well -in Bengal. Alivirdi Khan is dying; and there is sure to -be some bother about the succession. All Bengal may be -aflame. My wife and daughter are in Calcutta, and -I don't care about being away from them if danger is -threatening. I want to get away as soon as possible, and -thought of taking passage in an Indiaman; but the -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> being here I'll sail in that; she'll make direct for -the Hugli; an Indiaman would put in at Madras, and -goodness knows how long I might be delayed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis a pity," said Desmond. "I should have liked of -all things to accept your offer, but I'm bound to stay for -Diggle's trial, and that can't be held until the fleet return."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long will that be?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I heard the Admiral say he expected it would take a -month to settle everything at Gheria. He wants to keep -the place in our hands, but Ramaji Punt claims it for the -Peshwa, and Captain Speke of the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> told me that it'll -be very lucky if they come to an arrangement within a -month."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It's uncommonly vexatious. I can't wait a month. -It'll take a week or more to clean the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer's</em><span> hull, -and another to load her; in a fortnight at the outside I -hope to be on my way. Well, it can't be helped. What -will you do when the trial is over?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Did Mr. Clive say anything about a cadetship?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a word. He only said that I should get a share -of the Gheria prize-money."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's something to the good. Use it wisely. I came -out to Calcutta twenty years ago with next to nothing, and -I've done well. There's no reason why you should not -make your fortune too if your health will stand the climate. -We'll have a talk over things before I sail."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A week later the </span><em class="italics">Bridgewater</em><span> arrived from Gheria, with -Diggle on board. He was imprisoned in the Fort, being -allotted far too comfortable quarters to please Mr. Merriman. -But Merriman's indignation at what he considered -the Governor's leniency was changed to hot rage three days -later when it became known that the prisoner had -disappeared. Not a trace of him could be discovered. He had -been locked in as usual one night, and next morning his -room was empty. Imprisonment was much less stringent -in those days than now; the prisoner was allowed to see -visitors and to live more or less at ease. The only clue to -Diggle's escape was afforded by the discovery that, at the -same time that he disappeared, there vanished also a black -boy, who had been brought among the prisoners from -Gheria and was employed in doing odd jobs about the -harbour. Desmond had no doubt that this was Diggle's -boy Scipio Africanus. And when he mentioned the -connexion between the two, it was supposed that the negro -had acted as go-between for his master with the friends in -the town by whose aid the escape had been arranged. -Among the large native population of Bombay there were -many who were suspected of being secret agents of the -French, and as Diggle was well provided with funds it -was not at all unlikely that his jailer had been tampered -with. Merriman's wrath was very bitter. He had been -waiting for years, as he told Desmond, for the punishment -of Peloti. It was gall and wormwood to him that the -villain should have cheated the gallows.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle's escape, however, gave Merriman an opportunity -to secure Desmond's services. The culprit being -gone, the evidence was no longer required. Finding that -Desmond was still ready to accept the position of mate on -the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>, Merriman consulted Mr. Bourchier, who -admitted that he saw no reason for detaining the lad. -Accordingly, at the end of the first week in March, when -the vessel stood out of Bombay harbour, Desmond sailed -with her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The weather was calm, but the winds not wholly favourable, -and the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> made a somewhat slow passage. -Mr. Merriman was impatient to reach Calcutta, and -Desmond was surprised at his increasing uneasiness. He -had believed that the French and Dutch were the only -people in Bengal who gave the Company trouble, and -as England was then at peace with both France and the -Netherlands, there was nothing, he thought, to fear from -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are mistaken," said Mr. Merriman, in the course -of a conversation one day. "The natives are a terrible -thorn in our side. At best we are in Bengal on sufferance; -we are a very small community--only a hundred or two -Europeans in Calcutta: and since the Marathas overran -the country some years ago we have felt as though sitting -on the brink of a volcano. Alivirdi wants to keep us -down; he has forbidden us to fight the French even if -war does break out between us at home; and though the -Mogul has granted us charters--they call them firmans -here--Alivirdi doesn't care a rap for things of that sort, -and won't be satisfied until he has us under his heel. -Only his trading profits and his fear of the Mogul have -kept him civil."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you said he was dying."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So he is, and that makes matters worse, for his -grandson, Siraj-uddaula, who'll probably succeed him, is no -better than a tiger. He lives at Murshidabad, about -100 miles up the river. He's a vain, peacocky, -empty-headed youth, and as soon as the breath is out of his -grandad's body he'll want to try his wings and take a -peck or two at us. He may do it slyly, or go so far as -to attack us openly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But if he did that, sure Calcutta is defended; and, -as Mr. Clive said to me in Gheria, British soldiers behind -walls might hold out for ever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Clive doesn't know Calcutta then! That's the -mischief! At the Maratha invasion the Bengalis on our -territory took fright, and at their own expense began a -great ditch round Calcutta--we call it the Maratha ditch; -but the Nawab bought the Marathas off, the work was -stopped, the walls of the fort are now crumbling to ruins, -and the cannon lie about unmounted and useless. Worst -of all, our governor, Mr. Drake, is a quiet soul, an excellent -worthy man, who wouldn't hurt a fly. We call him the -Quaker. Quakers are all very well at home, where they -can 'thee' and 'thou' and get rich and pocket affronts -without any harm; but they won't do in India. Might -is right with the natives; they don't understand anything -else; and as sure as they see any sign of weakness in -us they'll take advantage of it and send us all to kingdom -come. And I'm thinking of the women folk: India's -no place for them at the best; and I did all I could to -persuade my wife and daughter to remain at home. But -they would come out with me when I returned last year; -and glad as I am to have them with me I sometimes get -very anxious; I can't bear them out of my sight, and -that's a fact."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman showed his relief when, on the 30th of -April, he noticed the yellow tinge in the water which -indicated that the vessel was approaching the mouth of -the Hugli. Next day the vessel arrived at Balasore, -where a pilot was taken on board, and entered the river. -Mr. Merriman pointed out to Desmond the island of -Sagar, whither in the late autumn the jogis came down -in crowds to purify themselves in the salt water, "and -provide a meal for the tigers," he added. At Kalpi a large -barge, rowed by a number of men dressed in white, with -pink sashes, came to meet the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's my budgero," said Merriman. "We'll get -into it and row up to Calcutta in half the time it would -take the ship. Each of us merchants has his own budgero, -and instead of putting our men in buttons with our arms -and all that nonsense, we give them coloured sashes--and -don't our women squabble about the colours, my boy, -just don't they!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the budgero they passed the Dutch factory at Fulta, -and the Subah's forts at Budge Budge and Tanna. At -Gobindpur's reach, Merriman pointed out the pyramid of -stone that marked the limit of the Company's jurisdiction. -Soon the gardens of the British merchants came in sight, -then the Company's docks, and at last the town of -Calcutta, where the Company's landing-stage was thronged -with people awaiting the arrival of the budgero in the hope -of getting news from home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There's Surendra Nath and his father," said Mr. Merriman, -as they came near the steps. His jolly face beamed -when he stepped on to the ghat.[#] "Hullo, Babu!" he -said. "Glad to see you again." He shook hands with -both the men; the elder was much like his son, a slightly-built -Bengali, with white hair and very bright eyes. Both -were clad in dhotis of pure white; their legs were bare -from the knee, their feet shod with sandals. When the -greeting had passed between them and their master, the -old man moved towards Desmond, put his hands together, -and made a deep salaam.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Landing-stage.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I have heard what the sahib did for my son. I thank -the sahib," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, 'twas excellent good fortune for Surendra Nath," -said Mr. Merriman. "I knew you would be overjoyed -to see your son again. But how is the bibi,[#] and the -chota[#] bibi?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Lady: </span><em class="italics small">mem-sahib</em><span class="small"> was not yet in use.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Young.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"They were well, sahib, when last I heard. They are -on a visit to Watts Sahib, at Cossimbazar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Merriman's face fell, but he had no time to say more, -for he was accosted by a friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad to see you back, Mr. Merriman. I've wanted -your voice on the Council for some time past."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is anything wrong, Mr. Holwell?" asked Merriman -anxiously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Everything is wrong. Alivirdi died a fortnight ago; -Siraj-uddaula has stepped into his shoes; and Drake has -made a mess of everything, with Manningham's and -Frankland's assistance. I want you to come and dine -with me this evening; we must have a serious talk; I've -asked two or three men of our sort in anticipation of your -consent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. Let me present my friend Mr. Burke. -He escaped from Gheria; you've heard that Colonel Clive -captured the place?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; we had despatches from Admiral Watson some -days ago. I have heard of Mr. Burke's adventures; your -servant, sir; I am delighted to meet you. Well, Merriman, -three o'clock; I will not detain you now; you'll want -to get home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman's bearers were at hand with his -palanquin; he got into it; the men set off at a swinging -pace, warning the bystanders with their cry of -"Tok! Tok!" and Desmond walked by the side of the chair, -amused to watch the self-important airs of the peon -who went in front. They passed the Fort and the -Company's house, and arrived at length at a two-storey -flat-roofed house with a veranda, the windows filled, not -with oyster shells as at Bombay, but with thin screens -of reeds.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Here we are," said Merriman with a sigh of relief -"Now I'll hand you over to the baniya[#]; he'll show you -to your room. I'm vexed that my wife is not here; of -course she didn't know when to expect me; and Mrs. Watts -is an old friend of hers. 'Tis a relief in one way; -for Mr. Watts is a shrewd fellow--he's head of our -factory at Cossimbazar, and senior member of Council -here--and he would have sent the ladies away if he scented -danger. Sorry I shall have to leave you; I must dine -with Mr. Holwell; he's our zamindar--judge of the Cutcheri -court and collector of taxes: a fine fellow, the most -cool-headed man on the Council. But the khansaman will -give you something to eat: and I'll be back as soon as -I can. You can take it easy on the veranda, and you'll -find a hookah if you care to try it."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Factotum.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"No, thanks," said Desmond with a smile; "I've -no fancy that way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shortly afterwards Mr. Merriman left the house in his -palanquin, wearing the short white calico jacket that was -then </span><em class="italics">de rigueur</em><span> at dinner parties. It was late before he -returned. There was an anxious and worried look on -his face, but he said cheerily:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, how have you been getting on?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I've been reading, sir: I found a volume of Mr. Fielding's -</span><em class="italics">Amelia</em><span>, and 'twas a change to read after eighteen -months without setting eyes on a book. I hope you had -a good dinner."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Pon my soul I don't know. None of us know. I -warrant. We had too much to talk about to think about -our appetites. Two or three members of Council were -there, and Captain Minchin, the military commandant. -Things are looking black, Desmond. Alivirdi is dead, -and, as I expected, his scoundrel of a grandson, -Siraj-uddaula, is the new Subah. He has imprisoned one of -his rivals, his aunt, and is marching against another, his -cousin Shaukat Jung; and 'tis the common talk that our -turn will come next."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But why should he be at odds with us?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, to begin with, he's a native and hates us; thinks -we're too rich; and though he's rich enough he would like -to get what we have and turn us out. Then our president -Mr. Drake has acted in the weakest possible way; the -very way to encourage the Subah. Instead of siding -with Siraj-uddaula from the first, as he might well have -done, because the rivals never had the ghost of a chance, -he shilly-shallied. Then he offended him by giving shelter -to a fellow named Krishna Das, who came in a month ago -with fifty sacks of treasure from Murshidabad; it really -belonged to the Subah's aunt, but the Subah had an eye -on it and he's furious at losing it. That wasn't enough. -Mr. Watts at Cossimbazar had warned the Council here of -the new Subah's unfriendliness; they talk at Murshidabad -of our weak defences and how easy it would be to -overcome us. He advised Mr. Drake to keep on good terms -with the Subah; but what must he do but turn out of the -place a man named Narayan Das, the brother of the new -Nawab's chief spy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure you don't allow the enemy's spies to live in Calcutta?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure we can't help ourselves. The place is full of -them--spies of the Subah, and of the French too. We -can't do anything. We may suspect, but if we raised a -hand we should stir up a hornets' nest, as indeed -Mr. Drake appears to be doing. But that isn't all. The -Company's ship </span><em class="italics">Delaware</em><span> came in a fortnight ago with the -news that a French fleet is fitting out under Count Lally, -at Brest; 'tis supposed war will break out again and the -fleet is intended to attack us here. So that we may have -the Subah making common cause with the French to -crush us. He'll turn against the French then, but that -won't save us. On top of that comes a fakir from -Murshidabad demanding in the Subah's name that we should -stop work on our fortifications; the insolence of the wretch -passes all bounds. Mr. Drake properly refused the -demand; he said we were repairing our defences in case we -needed 'em against the French; but he undertook not -to start any new works, which was a mistake. Altogether, -Desmond, things are in a pretty mess. I'm afraid -Mr. Drake is not the man to cope with a grave situation; -but he has the majority of the Council with him, and we -can't alter it. Now I think we had better turn in; -perhaps I shall feel better after a good sleep; I am certainly -far from easy in mind."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond slept like a top on his light mattress, -enveloped in his mosquito curtains. In the morning he -accompanied Mr. Merriman to his daftarkhanah,[#] where -he found a large staff under the superintendence of the -muhri,[#] Surendra Nath's father. He returned to the house -for tiffin, spent the afternoon indoors over his novel, and -after the three o'clock dinner accompanied his host in a -walk through the English quarter.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Office.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Chief clerk.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As they returned, Mr. Merriman suggested that they -should walk down to Mr. Watts' house near the river -to see if any news had arrived from Cossimbazar. On the -way they passed a large pakka[#] house, surrounded by a -compound and a low wall.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Substantial.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"We were talking yesterday about spies," said Merriman. -"In that house lives a man who in my belief is -a spy, and a treacherous scoundrel--actually living next -door to Mr. Eyre, the keeper of our military stores. He's -a Sikh named Omichand, and the richest merchant in the -city. He owns half of it; he's my landlord, confound -him! For forty years he was the contractor for supplying -the Company with cloth, but we found out that he was -cheating us right and left, and dismissed him. Yet he's -very friendly to us, which is a bad sign. 'Twas he who -brought Krishna Das with his treasure into the place, -and my belief is, he did it merely to embroil us with the -Subah. Mr. Drake is disposed to pooh-pooh the idea, -but I incline to Mr. Holwell's opinion, that Omichand's -a schemer and a villain, ready to betray us to French, -Dutch, or Gentoos as it suits him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why don't you turn him out, then?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear boy, he's far too powerful. And we'd rather -keep him in sight. While he's here we can tell something -of what is going on; his house is pretty well watched; -but if he were away he might try all manner of tricks -and we should never learn anything about them. Our -policy is to be very sweet to him--to make friends of the -mammon of unrighteousness, as Mr. Bellamy, our padre, -puts it. You're bound to see him one of these days, the -hoary-headed old villain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though Mr. Merriman fully relied on Mr. Watts' discretion -to send his visitors back to Calcutta if there were -the least sign of danger, he was so anxious to have his -wife and daughter with him that next day he sent a special -messenger up the river asking them to return as soon as -they could. He could not fetch them, public affairs not -allowing him to leave Calcutta at once, but he promised to -meet them somewhere on the way. He spent the day in -making himself acquainted with the business that had -been done during his absence. A valuable consignment -of silks, muslins, and taffeties was expected from Cossimbazar, -he learnt, and as soon as it arrived the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> -would be able to sail for Penang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A private venture," he said to Desmond, "nothing to -do with the Company."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond expressed his surprise that the Company's -officials were at liberty to engage in private trading.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, bless you, how could we live otherwise? Do -you imagine I got rich on the Company? What do you -suppose my salary is as member of Council? 'Tis just -forty pounds. The factors get fifteen and the writers five: -Colonel Clive began at five pounds a year: so you may -guess that we have to do something to keep flesh on our -bones. And that reminds me of a proposal I wished -to make to you. You have a little money from the sale of -the Pirate's grab, and you'll have more by and by when -the Gheria prize-money is distributed. Why not put some -of it into the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>? Let me buy some goods for -you, and send 'em to Penang: they'll fetch top prices -there in the present state of trade. 'Twill be an excellent -investment."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir, I'll be glad to follow your advice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's right. I'll see about it at once, and the sooner -these things come from Cossimbazar the better. The -delay is vexing, and I fear I'll have to change my agent -there."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman being so much occupied with business -and public affairs, Desmond had much time to himself. -He soon made friends among the junior merchants and -factors, and in their company went about Calcutta. Fort -William was built near the river, the factory house in the -centre of the enclosure. Around it on three sides were the -houses of individual merchants and officers. A wide avenue -known as the Lai Bazar led from the ravelin of the fort -past the court-house to the native part of the town. On one -side of the avenue was the Park or Lai Bagh, with a great -tank by which a band played in the evening. Around the -town was the incomplete Maratha ditch.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond became the object of much kindly attention -from the Company's servants and their families. Every -one was eager to hear from his own lips the story of his -adventures, and invitations to dinners and routs and -card parties poured upon him. He accepted a few and -politely excused himself from the rest, not from any -want of sociability, but from motives of prudence. His -kind host had already given him a friendly warning; some -of the writers and younger servants of the Company were -wild spirits, and spent more time than was good for them -in cards and revels.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the evening of the third day after landing he went -down to the river to watch the arrival of some country -vessels. There was the usual crowd at the ghat, and as -Desmond gradually worked his way through it he suddenly -saw, just in front of him, two men whose backs were very -familiar. They were in the dress of seamen: one was tall -and thin, the other broad and brawny, and Desmond did -not need his glimpse of the iron hook to be sure that the -men were none other than his old friend Bulger and -Mr. Toley, the melancholy mate. They were standing side by -side, watching in silence the arrival of the boats.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond edged his way to them until he was within -arm's length of Bulger's hook. He stood for a moment -looking at them, imagining their surprise when they saw -him, wondering if their pleasure would be as keen as his -own. Both appeared rather battered; Mr. Toley's -expression was never merry, and he was neither more nor -less melancholy than usual; but Bulger's habitual -cheerfulness seemed to have left him; his air was moody and -downcast. How came they here? The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> being -an interloper, it was not at all likely that she had ventured -to put in at Calcutta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by Bulger seemed to become aware that some one -was gazing at him, for he turned round slowly. Desmond -could not but smile at his extraordinary change of -expression. His first look of blank amazement quickly gave -place to one of almost boyish delight, and taking an eager -step forward he exclaimed:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder, 'tis Mr. Burke or his ghost! Bless my -heart! Ho! shake hands, matey; this is a sight for sad -eyes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Glad to see you, Bulger," said Desmond quietly; "and -you too, Mr. Toley."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Toley had shown no surprise; but then, nothing -ever surprised Mr. Toley.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure I'm rejoiced," he said. "We had given you up -for lost."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His hearty hand-grip was more convincing than his -words, though, indeed, Desmond had good reason to -know the real kindliness that always lay behind his -outward solemnity of manner.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're better in togs than when I seed you last, sir," -said Bulger, gripping his hand again. "Which you look -quite the gentleman; got a berth as supercargo, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not yet, Bulger," replied Desmond, laughing. "How's -Captain Barker?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger spat out a quid of tobacco and hitched up his -breeches.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't know how Captain Barker is, and what's more, -I don't care," he said. "Me and Barker en't friends: -leastways, not on speakin' terms; which I will say, hang -Captain Barker, topsy-versy, any way you like; and I -don't care who hears me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has happened?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Happened! Why, sir, Mr. Toley'll tell you what -happened. He knows the thus, therefore, and whereupon -of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The good fellow was itching to tell, but in duty bound -deferred to his superior officer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on, Bulger," said the American, "you've got a -looser tongue than me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which I don't deny, sir. Two days ago--'twas at -Chandernagore, where the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent's</em><span> been laid up for -a matter o' weeks--the captain he went an' forgot hisself, -sir; clean forgot hisself, an' lifted his hand to Mr. Toley; -ay, hit him, sir. Wunst it was, sir, on'y wunst; then -'twas Mr. Toley his turn. Ah, an' I warrant Captain -Barker's in his bunk to-day. Never did I see sich a sight -all the years I've been afloat, an' that's sayin' something. -There was captain spread out on deck, sir, with his eyes -bunged up an' a tooth or two that had lost their bearin's, -and all his bones wonderin' if they was ever goin' to get -joined again. That's the why and wherefore of it, sir. -Well, in course, 'twas no kiss-an'-be-friends arter that; so, -bein' in a mounseer's place, Mr. Toley took French leave, -which I did the same, and here we are a-lookin' for a job.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But Lor' bless me! what's happened to you, -Mr. Burke? When you didn't come aboard at that there -Gheria, Captain Barker he says, 'Log that there knave -Burke a deserter,' says he. But I says to Mr. Toley, 'I -may be wrong, sir,' says I, 'but I lay my whiskers that -Diggle has been an' sold him to the Pirate, an' that's the -last we shall ever see of as nice a young fellow as ever -hauled on a hawser.' How did you get out of the Pirate's -den, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's a long story, Bulger. I'll tell you all in good -time. You're looking for a job, are you? Well, I happen -to know of a skipper here--a good man: maybe he'll have -a berth for a seasoned salt like you. I'll present you to -him, and I know he'll do what he can for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before he left the men, Desmond took Mr. Toley aside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Toley," he said, "my friend Mr. Merriman wants -a mate for one of his vessels, as I happen to know. You -would be willing to sign on?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I would, sir. I'm a man of few words."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well; come up to Mr. Merriman's house by the -Rope Walk and we'll see what he says."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That same day Mr. Merriman invited the American to -dinner, and engaged him, to Desmond's surprise, as first -mate for the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>, with Bulger as bo'sun.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't look so blue," he said to Desmond when -Mr. Toley had gone. "He will, of course, take your place. -The fact is, I've taken a fancy to you, and I think you -can do better than by serving as mate on a country vessel. -Look in at the daftarkhanah sometimes, and get -Surendra Nath to explain something of our business -methods."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He said no more at that time, and Desmond felt no little -curiosity about his host's intentions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One evening Desmond was sitting alone on the veranda, -reading, awaiting Mr. Merriman's return from a meeting -of the Council to which he had been hastily summoned. -Hearing a footstep he looked up, and was surprised to see, -instead of Mr. Merriman, as he expected, Bulger hastening -up with an air of excitement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Burke, sir, what d'you think I've seed? I could -hardly believe my own eyes. I was walkin' down towards -the fort when I seed two men goin' into a big house. -They was Englishmen, leastways white men, and I may -be wrong, but I bet my boots one on 'em was that there -soft-speakin' villain Diggle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Diggle!" exclaimed Desmond, springing up. "You -must be mistaken, Bulger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be wrong, sir, but I never remembers any time -when I was."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What house did he go into?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That I can't tell you, sir, not bein' sure o' my bearin's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But you could point it out?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Course I could. Rather. Just so."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I'll come along with you, and you can show me. -If it is Diggle we must have him arrested."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, an' I'll knot the rope for his neck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How long ago was this?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not a quarter of an hour, sir. I comed up at once."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two set off together. They quickly reached the -house; Desmond recognized it as Omichand's. The evening -was closing in, but no lights were visible through the -chiks[#] that covered the windows. While Desmond was -considering, two figures stepped down from the veranda -and walked rapidly across the compound towards the gate -in the wall. At the first glance Desmond saw that Bulger -had not been mistaken. The taller of the two figures -was disguised, but it was impassible to mistake the gloved -right hand. It was Diggle to a certainty.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Hanging screens made of thin strips of bamboo.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Are you game to capture them?" said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger grunted and gave a twist to his hook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll take Diggle," added Desmond: "you go for the -other man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They waited in the shadow of the wall. The gate -opened, the two men came out, and in an instant -Desmond and his companion dashed forward. Taken by -surprise, the men had no time to defend themselves. -With his left hand Desmond caught at Diggle's -sword-arm, and pointing his rapier at his heart, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You are my prisoner, Mr. Diggle."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same moment Bulger had caught the second man -by the throat, and raising his formidable hook, cried:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heave to, matey, or I'll spoil your mug for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man uttered an exclamation in French, which ended -in a wheeze as Bulger's strong fingers clutched his -windpipe. But the next moment an unlooked-for diversion -occurred. Attracted by the sound of the rapid scuffle, a -number of natives armed with lathis[#] rushed across the -compound into the street, and came swiftly to the rescue. -Desmond and his companion had perforce to release their -prisoners and turn to defend themselves. With their -backs against the wall they met the assailants; -Desmond with his rapier, Bulger with his hook, dexterously -warding off the furious blows of the excited natives. -Diggle and the Frenchman took instant advantage of -the opportunity to slip away, and the Englishmen had -already got home more than one shrewd thrust, provoking -yells of pain from the attackers, when the onslaught -suddenly ceased, and the natives stood rigid, as if under -a spell. Looking round, Desmond saw at the gate a -bent old figure with dusky wrinkled face and prominent -eyes. He wore a turban in which a jewel sparkled, and -his white garment was girt with a yellow sash.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Bludgeons.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"What is this, sahib?" he said severely in careful -English, addressing Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis pretty plain what it is," said Desmond somewhat -hotly; "we have been set upon by these six ruffians----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The new-comer motioned with his hand, and the men -slunk away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I regret, sahib. The men are badmashes; Calcutta is -unhappily in a disturbed state."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Badmashes or not, they came from your house--if this -is your house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is my house, sahib. My name is Omichand. I -must inquire how the badmashes came to be in my -compound. I fear my darwan is at fault."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what about the two men?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The two men, sahib?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, the two Europeans who came first from the -house, and were protected by these ruffians?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You must be mistaken, sahib. English sahibs do not -visit at the houses of Indian gentlemen. If the sahib had -been longer in Calcutta he would know that."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A smile flickered on the Indian's face, but it was gone -instantly. Desmond was nonplussed. It was useless to -contradict the merchant; he was clearly not disposed to -give any information; Diggle was gone. All he could do -was to return and report the matter to Mr. Merriman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come along, Bulger," he said, with an unceremonious -gesture to Omichand. "We can do no good here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The old Ananias!" growled Bulger, as they walked -away. "What in thunder is Diggle's game here? I'd -give a year's baccy to have a chanst o' usin' my hook on -him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman looked grave when he heard what had -happened.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To think of that villain once more escaping our -clutches! The other fellow was a Frenchman, you say? -There's mischief brewing. Sure if I was president I'd -be tempted to arrest that wily old Omichand. Not that -it would be of much use probably. Peloti is a bold fellow -to venture here. You are sure 'twas he?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Absolutely. His disguise was good; he has altered -his face in some way, and his dress is altogether changed; -but I couldn't mistake the covered hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis an odd thing, that mitten. Probably it conceals -some defect; the man's as vain as a peacock. The -mitten is a thing by which he may be traced, and I'll -send my peons to start inquiries to-morrow. But I've -something to say to you; something to propose. The -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> is ready to sail, save for that consignment at -Cossimbazar I mentioned. My agent there is an Armenian -named Coja Solomon; I've employed him for some years -and found him trustworthy; but I can't get delivery of -these goods. I've sent two or three messengers to him, -asking him to hurry, but he replies that there is some -difficulty about the dastaks--papers authorizing the -despatch of goods free from customs duty. Now, will you -go up the river and see what is causing the delay? I'll -give you an introduction to Mr. Watts; he will do all -he can for you, though no doubt his hands are full. You -can take Surendra Nath with you to interpret; and -you had better have some armed peons as an escort, -and perhaps a number of men we can trust to work the -boats if you can release the goods. Are you willing?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will gladly do anything I can, sir. Indeed, I wished -for an opportunity to see something of the country."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may see too much! I'd say beware of tigers, but -Surendra Nath is so desperately timid that you can depend -on him not to lead you into danger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> will not sail until I return?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not till the goods arrive. Why do you ask?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to take Bulger with me. He's a good -companion, with a shrewd head----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And a useful hook. I have no objection. You will be -ready to start to-morrow, then. You must be up early: -travelling will be impossible in the heat of the day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"At dawn, sir."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twentieth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which there are recognitions and -explanations; and our hero meets one Coja -Solomon, of Cossimbazar</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>At sunrise next morning Desmond found his party -awaiting him at the Causeway beyond the Maratha ditch. The -natives salaamed when he came up in company with -Mr. Merriman, and Bulger pulled his forelock.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mornin,' sir; mornin'; I may be wrong, but 'tis my -belief we're goin' to have a bilin' hot day, and I've come -accordin'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was clad in nothing but shirt and breeches, with his -coat strapped to his back, and a hat apparently -improvised out of cabbage leaves. The natives were all in -white, with their employer's pink ribands. Some were -armed with matchlocks and pikes; others carried light -cooking utensils; others groceries for the Englishmen's -use; for their own food they depended on the villages -through which they would pass.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I wish you a good journey," said Mr. Merriman, -who appeared to be in better spirits than for many a day. -"I'm glad to tell you, Burke, that I got a letter from -Mr. Watts this morning, saying that my wife and daughter -are on their way down the river with Mrs. Watts and her -children. They've got Mr. Warren Hastings to escort -them; trust 'em to find a handsome man! The road -follows the river, and if you look out I dare say you will see -them. You'll recognize our livery. Introduce yourself if -you meet 'em. You have your letter for Mr. Watts? -That's all right. Good-bye, and good luck to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The party set off. The old road by which they were to -travel ran at a short distance from the left bank of the -Hugli, passing through an undulating country, -interspersed with patches of low wood and scattered trees. -The scenery was full of charm for Desmond: the rich -vegetation; antelopes darting among the trees; flamingoes -and pelicans standing motionless at the edge of the -slow-gliding stream; white-clad figures coming down the broad -steps of the riverside ghats to bathe; occasionally the -dusky corpse of some devotee consigned by his relations -to the bosom of the holy river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The first halt was called at Barrakpur, where, amid -a luxuriant grove of palms and bamboos, stood some -beautiful pagodas, built of the unburnt brick of the -country, and faced with a fine stucco that gleamed in the -sunlight like polished marble. Here, under the shade of -the palms, Desmond lay through the hot afternoon, watching -the boats of all shapes and sizes that floated lazily -down the broad-bosomed stream. In the evening the -march was resumed, the party crossed the river by a -ford at Pulta Ghat, and following the road on the other -bank came at sundown to the outskirts of the French -settlement at Chandernagore. There they camped for the -night. Desmond was for some time tormented by the -doleful yells of packs of jackals roaming abroad in search -of food. Their cries so much resembled those of human -beings in dire agony that he shivered on his mattress; -but falling asleep at length, he slept soundly and woke -with the dawn.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He started again soon after sunrise. Just beyond -Chandernagore Bulger pointed out the stripped spars of -the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, lying far up a narrow creek.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wouldn't I just like to cut her out?" said Bulger. -"But 'spose we can't stop for that, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Certainly not. And you'd have the French about our ears."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Passing the Dutch settlement at Chinsura, he came into -a country of paddy fields, now bare, broken by numerous -nullahs worn by the torrents in the rainy season, but now -nearly dry. Here and there the party had to ford a jhil,--an -extensive shallow lake formed by the rains. Desmond -tried a shot or two at the flights of teal that floated on -these ponds; but they were so wild that he could never -approach within range. Towards evening, after passing -the little village of Amboa, they came to a grove of peepuls -filled with green parrots and monkeys screaming -and jabbering as though engaged in a competition. A -few miles farther on they arrived at the larger village of -Khulna, where they tied up for the night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning Desmond was wakened by Surendra Nath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sahib," he said, "the bibi and the chota bibi are here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mrs. Merriman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. They arrived last night by boat, and are -pursuing their journey to-day."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like to see them before they go. But I'm -afraid I am hardly presentable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Believe me, sahib, you will not offend the bibi's punctilio."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, send one of the peons to say that I shall have -the pleasure of waiting on Mrs. Merriman in half an hour, -if she will permit me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having shaved and bathed, and donned a change of -clothes, Desmond set off accompanied by Surendra Nath to -visit the ladies. He found them on a long shallow boat, in -a cabin constructed of laths and mats filling one end of the -light craft. The Babu made the introduction, then effaced -himself. A lady, whose voice seemed to waken an echo in -Desmond's memory, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How do you do, Mr. Burke? I have heard of you in -my husband's letters. Is the dear man well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is in good health, ma'am, but somewhat anxious -to have you back again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear man! What is he anxious about? Mr. Watts -seemed anxious also to get rid of us. He was vexed that -Mrs. Watts is too much indisposed to accompany us. -And Mr. Warren Hastings, who was to escort us, was -quite angry because he had to go to one of the out-factories -instead. I do not understand why these gentlemen are -so much disturbed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond saw that Mrs. Merriman had been deliberately -kept in ignorance of the grounds of the Englishmen's -anxiety, and was seeking on the spur of the moment for -a means to divert her from the subject, when he was -spared the necessity. Miss Merriman had been looking at -him curiously, and she now turned to her mother and said -something in a tone inaudible to Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"La! you don't say so, my dear," exclaimed the lady. -"Why, Mr. Burke, my daughter tells me that we have -met you before."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His vague recollection of Mrs. Merriman's voice being -thus so suddenly confirmed, he recalled, as from a far -distant past, a scene upon Hounslow Heath; a coach that -stood perilously near the ditch, a girl at the horses' heads, -a lady stamping her foot at two servants wrestling in -drunken stupidity on the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You never gave us an opportunity of thanking you," -continued Mrs. Merriman. "'Twas not kind of you, -Mr. Burke, to slip away thus without a word after doing two -poor lone women such a service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, ma'am, 'twas with no discourteous intention, -but seeing you were safe with your friends I--I--in short, -ma'am----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond stopped in confusion, at a loss for a satisfactory -explanation. The ladies were smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You thought to flee our acknowledgments," said -Mrs. Merriman. "La, la, I know; I have a young brother of -my own. But you shall not escape them now, and what -is more, I shall see that Merriman, poor man, adds his, -for I am sure he has forgiven you your exploit."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The younger lady laughed outright, while Desmond -looked from one to the other. What did they mean?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, ma'am," he said, "I had no idea----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That there was need for forgiveness?" said the lady, -taking him up. "But indeed there was--eh, Phyllis? -Mr. Burke," she added, with a sudden solemnity, "a few -minutes after you left us at Soho Square Merriman rode -up, and I assure you I nearly swooned, poor man! and -hardly had strength to send for the surgeon. It needed -three stitches--and he such a handsome man, too."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A horrid suspicion flashed through Desmond's mind. -He remembered the scar on Mr. Merriman's brow, and -that it was a scarcely healed wound when he met him with -Clive on that unfortunate occasion in Billiter Street.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely, ma'am, you don't mean--the highwayman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed I do. That is just it. Your highwayman -was--Mr. Merriman. Fancy the hurt to his feelings, to say -nothing of his good looks. Fie, fie, Mr. Burke!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a moment Desmond did not know whether -embarrassment or amazement was uppermost with him. It -was bad enough to have tripped Mr. Merriman up in -the muddy street; but to have also dealt him a blow of -which he would retain the mark to his dying day--"This -is terrible!" he thought. Still there was an element of -absurdity in the adventure that appealed to his sense of -the ridiculous. But he felt the propriety of being apologetic, -and was about to express his regret for his mistake when -Mrs. Merriman interrupted him with a smile:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there, Mr. Burke, he bears you no grudge, I am -sure. He is the essence of good temper. It was a -mistake; he saw that when I explained; and when he had -vented his spleen on the coachman next day he owned -that it was a plucky deed in you to take charge of us, -and indeed he said that you was a mighty good whip; -although," she added laughing, "you was a trifle heavy -in hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt bound to make a full confession. He -related the incident of his encounter with Merriman in -London--how he had toppled him over in the mud--wondering -how the ladies would take it. He was relieved -when they received his story with a peal of laughter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh, mamma; and it was his new frock!" said Phyllis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"La, so it was, just fresh from Mr. Small's in Wigmore -Street--forty guineas and no less!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well ma'am, I'm already forgiven for that; I trust -that with your good favour my earlier indiscretion will -be forgiven."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed it shall be, Mr. Burke, I promise you. Now -tell me: what brings you here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond explained his errand in a few words. The -ladies wished him a prosperous journey, and said they -would hope to see him in a few days on his return. He -left them, feeling that he had gained friends, and with -a new motive, of which he was only vaguely conscious, -to a speedy accomplishment of his business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the evening of the sixth day after leaving Calcutta -there came into sight a church of considerable size, which -Surendra Nath explained was the temple of the Armenian -colony of Cossimbazar. Passing this, and leaving a -maze of native dwellings and the French factory on the -left, the travellers reached the Dutch factory, and beyond -this the English settlement and fort. Leaving the Babu -to arrange quarters for the peons in the native part of -the town, Desmond hastened on past the stables and the -hospital to the factory. It was a rough oblong in shape, -defended at each corner by a bastion mounted with ten -guns, the bastions being connected by massive curtains. -In the south curtain, windowed for the greater part of -its length, was the gateway. Desmond was admitted by a -native servant, and in a few minutes found himself in -the presence of the chief, Mr. William Watts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Watts was a tall man of near forty years--of -striking presence, with firm chin, pleasant mouth, and eyes -of peculiar depth and brilliance. He was clad in a long -purple laced coat, with ruffles at the wrists and a high -stock, and wore the short curled wig of the period. He -welcomed Desmond with great cordiality, and, glancing -over Mr. Merriman's letter, said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My friend Mr. Merriman needlessly disturbs himself, -I think. I apprehend no immediate difficulty with the -new Subah, although 'tis true there have been little -vexations. As to the goods, they are in Coja Solomon's godown; -they were delivered some time ago and paid for; what -the reason of the delay is I cannot tell. One thing I -may mention--it appears that Mr. Merriman is ignorant -of it: Coja Solomon has lately become the agent of -Omichand, whose peons have been seen to visit him, then -passing on to Murshidabad. I happen to know also that -he has communicated with Coja Wajid: do you know -anything of him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir, I have never heard his name."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He's a rich Armenian trader in Hugli, and acts as -agent between the Nawab and the French and Dutch. -We suspect him of encouraging Siraj-uddaula against us; -but of course we can't prove anything. My advice to -you is, be wary and be quick; don't trust any of these -fellows further than you can see them. But you can't -do anything to-night. You will allow me to give you -a bed: in the morning you can make a call on Coja -Solomon. What has become of your peons?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A Babu I brought with me is looking after them. -But I have an English seaman also: can you tell me what -to do with him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sure he can lodge with Sergeant Bowler close by--near -the south-east bastion. The sergeant will be glad -of the company of a fellow-countryman; your man will -be a change after the Dutchmen and topasses he has to -do with."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Early next morning Desmond, accompanied by Surendra -Nath, went to find Coja Solomon. He lived in a house not -far from the Armenian Church, between it and the river. -The Armenian was at home. He received Desmond -with great politeness, assuring him with much volubility -that he had but one interest in life, and that was the -business of his honourable employer Mr. Merriman. He -invited Desmond to accompany him to the godown near -the river where the goods were stored--muslins of Dacca, -both plain and flowered, Bengal raw silk, and taffeties -manufactured in Cossimbazar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have not been long in the country, sir," said -Coja Solomon, with a shrewd look at Desmond, "and -therefore you will find it hard to believe, perhaps, that -these goods, so insignificant in bulk, are worth over two -lakhs of rupees. A precious load indeed, sir. This delay is -naturally a cause of vexation to my distinguished superior, -but it is not due to any idleness or inattention on my part. -It is caused by the surprising difficulty of getting the -dastaks countersigned by the Faujdar.[#] Without his -signature, as you know, the goods cannot be removed. -I dare not venture."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Officer in command of troops, and also a magistrate.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"But why didn't the Faujdar sign the papers?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That I cannot tell. I send messengers to him: they -come back: the Faujdar is much occupied with the Nawab's -business, but he will attend to this little matter as soon -as he has leisure. He calls it a little matter; and so it -is, perhaps, if we remember that the Nawab's wealth is -reckoned by millions; but it is not a little matter to -Mr. Merriman, and I deeply deplore the unfortunate delay."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, be good enough to send another message at -once. Represent to the Faujdar that Mr. Merriman's -ship is prevented from sailing until the goods reach -Calcutta, and that this causes great inconvenience and -loss." Here the Babu whispered in his ear. "Yes, and -add--you will know how to put it--that if the dastaks are -sent off immediately, the Faujdar will receive from -Mr. Merriman a suitable gratification."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Armenian rubbed his hands and smilingly assented; -but Desmond, who had had some practice in reading -faces since he left Market Drayton eighteen months before, -felt an uneasy suspicion that Coja Solomon was a scamp. -Returning to the factory he acquainted Mr. Watts with -the result of his interview and his opinion of the agent. -The chief's eye twinkled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You haven't been long reckoning him up, Mr. Burke. -I'm afraid you're right. I'll see what I can do for you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Calling "Qui hai!"[#] he ordered the peon who appeared -in answer to his summons to go to the black merchants' -houses, a row of two-storey buildings some forty yards -from the south-west bastion, and bring back with him -Babu Joti Lai Chatterji.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] "Is there any one?"--used as a summons.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In less than ten minutes the man returned with an -intelligent-looking young Bengali. Mr. Watts addressed -the latter in Hindustani, bidding him hasten to Murshidabad -and find out quietly what the Faujdar was doing with -the dastaks. When he had gone, Mr. Watts showed -Desmond over the fort, introduced him to his wife, and -then took him round the English settlement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day Joti Lai Chatterji returned from Murshidabad -with the news that the dastaks, duly signed by the Faujdar, -had been delivered to Coja Solomon a fortnight before.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis rather worse than I expected," said Mr. Watts -gravely. "There is something in this that I do not -understand. We will send for Coja Solomon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No one could have seemed more genuinely surprised -than the Armenian when informed of what had been learnt. -He had received no dastaks, he declared; either a mistake -had been made, or the papers had been intercepted, possibly -by some enemy who had a grudge against him and -wished to embroil him with his employer. It was -annoying, he agreed; and he offered to go to Murshidabad -himself and, if necessary, get other dastaks signed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well," said Mr. Watts, from whose manner no -one could have guessed that he suspected his visitor. -"We will look for you to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man departed. Nothing was heard of him for two -days. Then a letter arrived, saying that he remained in -Murshidabad, awaiting the return of the Faujdar, who -had been summoned to Rajmahal by the Nawab Siraj-uddaula. -Three more days slipped by, and nothing -further was heard from Coja Solomon. Desmond became -more and more impatient. Bulger suggested that they -should break into the godown and remove the goods -without any ceremony--a course that Desmond himself was -not disinclined to adopt; but when he hinted at it to -Mr. Watts that gentleman's look of horror could not have -been more expressive if his consent had been asked to -a crime.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, Mr. Burke, if we acted in that impetuous way -we'd have all Bengal at our throats. Trade must pass -through the usual channels; to convey goods from here -to Calcutta without a dastak would be a grave -misdemeanour, if not high treason; and it would get us into -very hot water with the Nawab. I can only advise -patience."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One morning, Desmond had just finished breakfast with -Mr. Watts and his wife, when Lieutenant Elliott, in -command of the garrison, came unceremoniously into the room.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Watts," he said, "the fat's in the fire. A lot of -the Nawab's Persian cavalry have come into the town -during the night. They have surrounded the French and -Dutch factories and are coming on here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be alarmed, my dear," said the chief, as his wife -started up in a state of panic; "'tis only one of the Nawab's -tricks. He has used that means of extorting money before. -We'll buy them off, never fear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was soon seen that the troops had come with -a more serious purpose. They completely invested the -factory, and next day withdrew the guards that had been -placed around the French and Dutch forts, and confined -their whole attention to the British. Mr. Watts withdrew -all the garrison and officials behind the bastioned walls of -the fort, and fearing that an attack in force would be made -upon him, despatched a kasid[#] to Calcutta with an urgent -request for reinforcements. While waiting anxiously for -the reply, he took stock of his position. His garrison -numbered only fifty men all told, half of them being Dutch -deserters and the remainder half-caste topasses, with only -two English officers, Lieutenant Elliott and Sergeant -Bowler. The guns of the fort were old; and within a -few yards of the walls were houses that would afford -excellent cover to the enemy. Without help resistance -for any length of time was impossible, and to resist at all -meant a declaration of war against the Nawab, and would -entail serious consequences--possibly involve the total ruin -of the Company in Bengal. In this difficult position -Mr. Watts hoped that an opportunity of making an -arrangement with the besiegers would offer itself. Meanwhile, -pending the arrival of instructions from Calcutta, he gave -orders that any attempt to force an entrance to the fort -was to be repelled.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Courier.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>But no letters came from Calcutta. Though several were -despatched, none of them reached Cossimbazar. On -June 1 Rai Durlabh, in command of the besiegers, received -orders from the Nawab, now at Murshidabad, to take the -fort. He came to the gate and tried to force an entrance, but -hurriedly withdrew when he met Sergeant Bowler's gleaming -bayonet and saw the gunners standing by with lighted -matches in their hands. By and by he sent a messenger -asking Mr. Watts to come out and parley, and offering a -betel, the usual native pledge of safe-conduct. Against -the advice of Lieutenant Elliott, Mr. Watts decided to -leave the fort and visit the Nawab himself. Next day, -therefore, with Mr. Forth the surgeon and two servants, -he departed, cheerfully declaring that he would make all -right with Siraj-uddaula. Mr. Forth returned a day later -with the news that on reaching the Nawab's tent both he -and Mr. Watts had had their arms bound behind their -backs and been led as prisoners into Siraj-uddaula's -presence. The Nawab had demanded their signatures to a -document binding the English at Calcutta to demolish -their fortifications. Mr. Watts explained that the -signatures of two other members of his Council were required, -hoping that the delay would allow time for help to reach -him from Calcutta. After some hesitation two gentlemen -left the fort with the surgeon. The same evening -Mr. Forth once more returned to inform the garrison that the -members of Council had likewise been imprisoned, and that -Mr. Watts recommended Lieutenant Elliott to deliver up -the fort and ammunition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The merchants in the factory were aghast; Lieutenant -Elliott fumed with indignation; but they saw that they -had no alternative. Their chief had been removed by -treachery; to resist was hopeless; and though such -submission to a native was galling they could but recognize -their helplessness and make the best of a bad situation. -Desmond, besides sharing in their anger, had a further -cause for concern in the almost certain loss of Mr. Merriman's -goods. But the fort would not be given up till -next day, and before he retired to rest he received a message -that turned his thoughts into another channel and made -him set his wits to work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>During the siege natives had been allowed to go freely -in and out between the fort and the settlement; Rai -Durlabh was confident in his superior numbers and could -afford to regard with indifference the despatch of messages -to Calcutta. A messenger came to Desmond in the -evening from Surendra Nath, to say that Coja Solomon had -returned to Cossimbazar, and was now loading up -Mr. Merriman's goods in petalas,[#] their destination being -Murshidabad. Desmond saw at once that the Armenian was -taking advantage of the disturbance to make away with -the goods for his own behoof. He could always pretend -afterwards that his godown had been plundered. It was -pretty clear, too, that his long detention of the goods must -be due to his having had a hint of the Nawab's plans.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Cargo boats.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This news reached Desmond just after Mr. Forth had -brought orders for the surrender of the fort. He kept -his own counsel. After his experience at Gheria he was -resolved not to be made a prisoner again; but he would -not be content with merely saving his own skin. -Mr. Merriman's goods were valuable; it touched Desmond's -self-esteem to think he should be bested by a rascally -Armenian. If there had been any prospect of a fight in -defence of the fort he would have stayed to take his part -in it; but as the factory was to be given up without a -struggle he saw no reason for considering anything except -the interests of Mr. Merriman and himself.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Only one thing gave him a slight qualm. The equities -of the case were perfectly clear; but he had some doubt as -to the issue if it should become known that he had forcibly -made off with the goods. The relations between the -Nawab and the Company were so strained, and the -circumstances of the moment so dangerous, that such action -on his part might prove the spark to a train of gunpowder. -But he could not help thinking that the Nawab was in any -case bent on picking a quarrel with the Company; -anything that Desmond might do would be but one petty -incident in a possible campaign; meanwhile the goods -were worth two lakhs of rupees, a serious loss to -Mr. Merriman if Coja Solomon's plans succeeded; an effort to -save them was surely worth the risk, and they could only -be saved if he could secure them before the Armenian's -boats had started for Murshidabad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He did not take long to decide upon a plan. Calling -the native who had attended him in the fort, he sent him -out to Surendra Nath with instructions to prepare his -peons for instant action. Bulger was with them; he had -been absent from Bowler's house when the order came to -retire to the fort, and only just succeeded in joining -Surendra Nath before the investment began. From Joti Lai -Chatterji, the man whom Mr. Watts had employed to -make inquiries in Murshidabad, the servant was to get -a dress such as would be worn by a khitmatgar,[#] and some -material for staining the skin. In the darkness Desmond -hoped that he might pass without question for a native so -long as disguise was necessary.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Table servant.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Within an hour the man returned, bringing the articles -required.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-first"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Coja Solomon finds dishonesty the -worse policy; and a journey down the -Hugli little to his liking.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The short twilight was thickening into darkness when -Desmond, with face, legs, and arms stained brown, slipped -out of the fort in native dress and walked slowly towards -the houses of the native merchants. In his hand he carried -a small bundle. Reaching the house where his party was -staying, kept by one Abdul Kader, he almost betrayed -himself by forgetting to slip off his sandals as he entered. -But he bethought himself in time and was admitted without -question.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He found that he was not a moment too soon. Bulger -had taken up his quarters there with a very bad grace, the -arrival of the Nawab's army having aroused in him the -fighting spirit of the sturdy British tar. But when the -news ran through the settlement that the fort was to be -given up, his feelings overcame him, and it was only with -the greatest difficulty that Surendra Nath had persuaded -him to wait patiently for orders from Desmond. Then -the Babu himself had quitted the house, and Bulger was -left without the restraint of any one who could speak -English. He was on the point of casting off all prudence -and stalking out like Achilles from his tent, when Desmond -arrived.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder, sir!" he said, when he had recovered from -his astonishment at seeing Desmond in native dress, "I -en't a-goin' to surrender to no Moors, sure as my name's -Bulger. 'Tis a downright scandalous shame; that's what -I call it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you can tell Mr. Watts so if you ever see him. -At present we have no time to waste in talk. Where is -Surendra Nath?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gone to keep his weather-eye on the codger's godown, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which shows he's a man of sense. Are all the men here?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So far as I know, sir. I may be wrong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, they'll make their way in small parties down to -the river. 'Tis dark enough now; they will not be noticed, -and they can steal along the bank under the trees until -they come near Coja Solomon's ghat. You must come -with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very good, sir," replied Bulger, hitching up his breeches -and drawing his hanger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But not like that. You'll have to get those black -whiskers of yours shaved, my man. If they grew all -over you'd pass perhaps for a Moor; but not with a fringe -like that. And you must stain your face; I have the stuff -in this bundle; and we'll borrow a dhoti and sandals from -Abdul Kader. We'll dress you up between us."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger looked aghast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dash my buttons, sir, I'll look like a November guy! -What would my mates say, a-seein' me dressed up like a -stuffed Moor at Smithfield fair--a penny a shy, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your mates are not here to see you, and if you hold -your tongue they'll never know it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But what about this little corkscrew o' mine, sir? I -don't see any ways o' dressin' that up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You can stick it into your dhoti. Now here are soap -and a razor; I give you ten minutes to shave and get your -face stained; Abdul Kader will help. Quick's the word, -man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A quarter of an hour later Desmond left the house with -Bulger, the latter, in spite of the darkness, looking very -much ashamed of himself. The other members of the -party had already gone towards the river. Walking very -slowly until they had safely cleared the lines of the -investing troops, the two hurried their pace and about -half-past eight reached the Armenian's godown. The three -boats containing Mr. Merriman's goods were moored at -the ghat. A number of men were on board, and bales -were still being carried down by the light of torches. It -appeared that Coja Solomon had no intention of leaving -until the factory was actually in Rai Durlabh's hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had already decided that, to legalize his -position, he must gain possession of the dastaks. Not -that they would help him much if, as was only too -probable, Coja Solomon should be backed up by the Nawab. -As soon as it was discovered that the goods had been -carried off, kasids would undoubtedly be sent along the -banks, possibly swift boats would set off down the river in -pursuit, and, dastaks or no dastaks, the goods would be -impounded at Khulna or Hugli and himself arrested. It -was therefore of the first importance that the loss of the -boats should not be discovered until he was well on his -way, and to ensure this he must secure the person of Coja -Solomon. If that could be done there was a chance of -delaying the pursuit, or preventing it altogether.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond kept well in the shelter of the palm trees as he -made his observation of the ghat. He wondered where -Surendra Nath was, but could not waste time in looking -for him. Retracing his steps with Bulger for some little -distance, he came to a spot on the river bank where the -rest of his party were waiting in a boat, moored to an -overhanging tree. He ordered the men to land; then, -leaving Bulger in charge of them, he selected three of the -armed peons and with them made his way across paddy[#] -fields towards the Armenian's house, a hundred yards or -so from the bank. Light came through the reed-screened -window. Bidding the men remain outside and rush in -if he called them, he left the shelter of the trees and, -approaching the door, stumbled over the darwan lying -across the threshold.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Rice.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Uthao,[#] Marwan!" he said, with the bluntness of servant -addressing servant; "sleeping again! Go and tell your -master I'm here to see him: a khitmatgar from the fort."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Get up.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The man rose sleepily and preceded him into the house. -He made the announcement, salaamed and retired. -Desmond went in.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In a little room on the ground floor Coja Solomon -reclined on a divan, smoking his hubble-bubble. A small -oil-lamp burnt in a pendant above his head. He looked -up as Desmond entered; if he thought that his visitor was -somewhat better set-up than the average khitmatgar, he -did not suspect any disguise. The light was dim, and -Coja Solomon was growing old.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good evening, Khwaja," said Desmond quietly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man jumped as if shot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, don't get up, and don't make a noise. My business -with you will not take long. I will ask you to hand -over Mr. Merriman's dastaks. I know that they are in -your possession. I have come to get them, and to take -away the goods--Mr. Merriman's goods."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Armenian had meanwhile removed the mouthpiece -of his hubble-bubble, and was bending over as if to replace -it by one of several that lay on a shelf at his right hand. -But Desmond noticed that beneath the shelf stood a small -gong. He whipped out a pistol, and pointed it full at the -merchant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't touch that," he said curtly. "I have not come -unprepared, as you see. Your plans are known to me. -If you value your life you will do as I wish without delay -or disturbance. My men are outside; a word from me -will bring them swarming in. Now, the dastaks!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coja Solomon was an Armenian and a merchant; in -neither capacity a fighting man. In a contest of wits he -could be as cool and as ready as any man in Bengal; but -he had no skill in arms and no physical courage. There -was an air of determination about his visitor that -impressed him; and he felt by no means comfortable within -point-blank range of the pistol covering him so -completely. If his thoughts had been read, they would have -run somewhat thus: "Pistols have been known to go off -accidentally. What will the goods profit me if such an -accident happen now? Besides, even if I yield there may -still be a chance of saving them. It is a long way to -Calcutta: the river is low: God be praised the rains have -not begun! There are shallows and rocks along its course: -the boats must go slowly: and the Nawab's horsemen -can soon outstrip them on the banks. The dog of an -Englishman thinks he has outwitted me: we shall see. -And he is only a youth: let us see if Coja Solomon is not -a match for him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Rising to his feet, he smiled and shrugged, and spread -out his hands deprecatingly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is true the dastaks are here," he said suavely, "but -they only reached me yesterday, and indeed, as soon as -I received them, I had the goods put on board the boats -for transit to Calcutta."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is very fortunate," said Desmond. "It will save -my time. As Mr. Merriman's representative I will take -over the goods--with the dastaks."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If you will excuse me, I will fetch them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay!" said Desmond, as the man moved towards the -door. He had not lowered the pistol. "Where are they?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They are in my office beside the godown."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. It would be a pity to trouble you to bring -them here. I will go with you. Will you lead the way?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He knew it was a lie. Valuable papers would not be -left in a hut of an office, and he had already noticed a -curiously wrought almara[#] at one end of the room--just -the place to keep documents.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Cabinet.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>There was a shadow of a scowl on the Armenian's face. -The man hesitated; then walked towards the door: -stopped as if at a sudden recollection; and turned to -Desmond with a bland smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I was forgetting," he said; "I brought the papers -here for safety sake."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went to the almara, searched for a moment, and -handed two papers to Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, sir," he said, with a quite paternal smile; -"you take the responsibility. In these unfortunate -circumstances"--he waved his hand in the direction of the -factory--"it is, believe me, a relief to me to see the last -of these papers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is well."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Desmond, as he took the papers, felt himself in a -quandary. Though he could speak, he could not read, -Hindustani! The papers might not be the dastaks after -all. What was he to do? The peons were not likely to -be able to read. He scanned the papers. There was -the name Merriman in English characters, but all the -rest was in native script. The smile hovering on the -Armenian's face annoyed Desmond, and he was still -undecided what to do when a voice at his elbow gave him -welcome relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Babu Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti," announced the darwan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu entered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come and tell me if these are our dastaks," said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu ran his eye over the papers, and declared:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, they are the identical papers, and I perceive -the signature of the Faujdar is dated three weeks ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you," said Desmond. "Now, Coja Solomon, -I must ask you to come with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, sir----" began the Armenian, no longer smiling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will explain to you by and by.--What is it, Surendra -Nath?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu whispered a word or two in his ear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A happy thought!" said Desmond. "Surendra Nath -suggests that I should borrow that excellent robe I see -yonder, Khwaja; and your turban also. They will become -me better than this khitmatgar's garb, I doubt not."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coja Solomon looked on helplessly as Desmond exchanged -his meaner garments for the richer clothes of -his unwilling host.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now we will go. You will tell the darwan that you -have gone down to the ghat, so that if a question is asked -he will be at no loss for an answer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the faint light of the rising moon the barrel of the -pistol gleamed as they came into the open. The Armenian -marched between Desmond and the Babu. Behind came -the three peons, moving as silently as ghosts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Khwaja," said Desmond to them in the Armenian's -hearing, as they reached the ghat, "is coming a little way -with us down the river. You, Kristodas Das, will go and -tell Bulger Sahib that I wish him to follow the Khwaja's -boats at a few yards' distance, and to be prepared to board -at any moment. You," turning to the other two peons, -"will come with me. The Khwaja will send word to his -darwan that he is going to Murshidabad by river and will -not return to-night; his house is to be locked up. The -Khwaja will, I am sure, give these orders correctly, for -Surendra Nath will understand better than I what he says."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With the Babu, the two peons, and Coja Solomon, who -was now obviously ill at ease, Desmond went down the -ghat to the place where the crews of the petalas were -squatting, and bade the Armenian carry out the part -assigned to him. The man durst not depart by a jot -from the words put into his mouth. One of his coolies -left with the message, the rest followed their employer -on board with Desmond and his companions, and in a -few minutes the three boats were cast off and stood up -stream. As they started Desmond saw the boat containing -Bulger and his men slip from the shade of the trees -and begin to creep after them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boats had not gone for more than a couple of -hundred yards up stream when Coja Solomon, at Desmond's -orders, bade the men row towards the opposite shore -and turn the boats' heads round, explaining that he had -decided after all to convey the goods to Hugli. There -was some grumbling among the crew, who had expected -to go to Murshidabad, and did not relish the prospect -of the longer voyage. But the Armenian, knowing that -every word was overheard by Desmond's men, made -haste to pacify the boatmen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was by no means easy work getting down the river. -The boats were flat-bottomed and drew very little water; -but the stream being very low, they stuck fast time after -time in the shallows. By day the boatmen might have -picked their way more carefully, but the moon was new -and shed too little light for river navigation. More than -once they had to leap overboard and, wading, shove and -haul until the boats came off the mud banks into -practicable water again. They rowed hard when the course -was clear, encouraged by promises of liberal bakshish -made by their employer at Desmond's prompting. But -the interruptions were so frequent that the dawn found the -boats only some thirty miles from their starting-point. -The river being here a little deeper, Desmond could afford -to let the rowers take a much needed rest, while the boats -floated down with the stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But as the day wore on the river again played them -false, and progress was at times reduced to scarcely more -than two miles an hour. Things had been uncomfortable -in the night, but the discomforts were increased tenfold in -the day. It was the hottest season of the year; out of the -clear sky the sun's rays beat down with pitiless ferocity; -the whole landscape was a-quiver with heat; all things -seemed to swoon under the oppression. The petalas, being -cargo boats, were not provided with any accommodation -or conveniences for passengers; and Desmond's thoughts, -as he lay panting on his mat, haggard from want of sleep, -faint from want of food--for though there was rice on -board, and the men ate freely, he had no appetite for -that--reverted to the worst period of his imprisonment in -Gheria, and he recalled the sufferings he had endured -there. Here at least he was free. His journey had so -far been unmolested, and he hoped that the happy chance -that had favoured him at Cossimbazar would not fail him now.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was in a fever of impatience; yet the men were doing -their best. They passed the mud walls of Cutwa; another -stage of the journey was safely completed; but twelve -miles lower down there was a post at Patli, and with -every mile the danger grew. Desmond talked over the -situation with the Babu. Surendra Nath agreed that by -nightfall, if no unforeseen delay occurred, they might hope -to be in the neighbourhood of Khulna, and arrive there -before any messenger carrying news of the escape. But -there was little or no chance of the same good fortune at -Hugli. The prize was so valuable that every effort would -certainly be made to stop them. A whole day or more -might pass before the reason of Coja Solomon's absence -was discovered. But when the discovery was made, fast -runners would be sent to Khulna and Hugli, and by -relays the distance between Cossimbazar and Hugli could be -covered in twenty-two hours. Supposing such a -messenger started at nightfall on June 5, nearly twenty-four -hours after Coja Solomon's disappearance, he might well -get to Hugli long before the fugitive boats, even if they -were rowed all night without cessation; and the men were -already so much fatigued that such continuous exertion -could hardly be expected of them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a further danger. If the news of the -capture of Cossimbazar Fort had preceded him, he might be -stopped at any of the riverside places without any -reference to Coja Solomon's abduction, pending orders from -the Nawab. Desmond's anxiety would have been largely -increased had he known that Siraj-uddaula, before his men -had actually marched into the fort, had already started -with the bulk of his forces on his fateful march to -Calcutta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was still in conversation with the Babu when -the little flotilla came in sight of Patli. Its approach was -observed. A boat put off from the ghat, and awaited the -arrival of Desmond's boat in mid-stream. As it came -alongside an official ordered the men to cease rowing and -demanded to know who was the owner of the goods on -board and to see the dastaks. The Babu, to whom -Desmond had entrusted the papers, showed them to the -man; he scanned them, said that he was satisfied, and -rowed back to the ghat. Evidently he had no suspicions. -During the short colloquy Desmond kept close beside the -Armenian, who was well known to the riverside official; but -Coja Solomon was thoroughly scared, and had not the -presence of mind to do anything more than -acknowledge the customary salaam.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond breathed freely once more now that Patli was -passed. But two-thirds of the journey still remained to be -completed, and he could not dare hope that at his slow -rate of progress he would be able always to keep ahead of -information from Cossimbazar. Seeing that he could -not hasten his journey, he wondered whether it was -possible to put pursuers off the scent. After thinking -for a while he said to the Babu, out of hearing of the -Armenian:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have an idea, Surendra Nath: tell me what you think -of it. Did you not tell me as we came up that there is a -gumashta[#] of the Company at Santipur?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Agent.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Certainly I did, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, as we are, I fear, sure to be cut off by water, -may we not take to the land? Could not the gumashta -get us a dozen hackeris[#]? We could transfer the goods to -them and elude our pursuers perhaps long enough for help -to arrive from Calcutta."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Bullock-carts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"That is good counsel, sir; why should we not do so?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Accordingly, when they came to the spot where the high -road crossed the river by a ford, Desmond ordered his men -to row in to the left bank. Selecting two men who knew -the country, he bade them land and make the best speed -in carrying out instructions which he proceeded to give -them.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You, Mohun Lai," he said, "will go to Santipur, -quickly, avoiding observation, and request the gumashta -in Merriman Sahib's name to have twelve hackeris, or as -many as he can collect, ready to receive loads two or three -hours before to-morrow's dawn. He must get them from -the villages, not from Khulna or Amboa, and he must not -tell any one why he requires the carts. You, Ishan, will -go on to Calcutta, find Merriman Sahib, and ask him -to send a body of armed men along the Barrakpur road -towards Santipur. You will tell him what we have done, -and also that Cossimbazar Fort is in the hands of the -Nawab, and Watts Sahib a prisoner. He may know this -already. You both understand?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men salaamed and started on their journey.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-second"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which is given a full, true, and particular -account of the Battle of the Carts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond expected that Mohun Lai would reach Santipur -shortly after nightfall. He himself might hope to arrive -there, if not intercepted at Khulna or Amboa, at any time -between midnight and three o'clock, according to the state -of the river. It was approaching dusk when he drew near -to Khulna. The boats having been tied up to the bank, as -the custom was, Desmond sent the Babu to find out from -the Company's gumashta whether news of the capture -of Cossimbazar Fort had reached the bazar, and if any -runner had come in from the north. In an hour the Babu -returned. He said that there was great excitement in the -bazar; no official messenger had arrived, but everybody -was saying that the Nawab had captured the English -factory at Cossimbazar, and was going to drive all the -Firangi out of Bengal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond decided to take a bold course. Official news -not having arrived, he might seize the moment to present -his dastaks and get away before the customs officers found -any pretext for stopping him. Everything happened as he -hoped. He met with no more difficulty than at Patli, and -informing the official who examined the dastaks that he -would drop down to Amboa before tying up for the night, -he drew out again into the stream.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He spent some time in consultation with the serang. In -a rather desolate reach of the Hugli, he learnt, and in the -middle of the stream, there was a small island, uninhabited -save by teal and other water-fowl, and not known to be -the haunt of tigers or other beasts of prey. Reaching this -islet about ten o'clock at night, when all river traffic had -ceased, he rowed in, and landed the Armenian with his -crews.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thank you for your company, Coja Solomon," he -said blandly. "We must here part, to my regret, for I -should like to have the pleasure of witnessing your -meeting with Mr. Merriman. The nights are warm, and you -will, I am sure, be quite comfortable till the morning, -when no doubt a passing boat will take you off and -convey you back to your business at Cossimbazar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will not stay here," protested the Armenian, his face -livid with anger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Believe me, you have no choice. Let me remind you -that had you behaved honestly there would have been no -reason for putting you to the inconvenience of this tiring -journey. You have brought it on yourself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Coja Solomon sullenly went up the shore. Desmond -then paid the men handsomely: they had indeed worked -well, and they were abundantly satisfied with the hire they -received.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Leaving Coja Solomon to his bitter reflections, Desmond -dropped down to Santipur, arriving there about two -o'clock in the morning. Just before dawn ten hackeris, -each yoked with two oxen, drew up near the Company's -ghat. They were accompanied by a crowd of the inhabitants, -lively with curiosity about the engagement of so -many vehicles. The gumashta came up with the first -cart, his face clouded with anxiety. He recognized the -Babu at once, and said that while he had fulfilled the order -he had received on Mr. Merriman's behalf, he had done it -in fear and trembling. The whole country knew that -Cossimbazar Fort was in possession of the Nawab, and, more -than that, the Nawab had on the previous day set out -with an immense army for Calcutta. Santipur was not on -the high road, and the Company was respected there; yet -the gumashta feared the people would make an attack on -the party if they suspected that they carried goods -belonging to an Englishman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hitherto Desmond had kept himself in the background. -But now he had an idea inspired by confidence in his -costume. Introducing himself to the gumashta, he asked -him to give out that the party was in command of a -Firangi in the service of the Nawab, and was conveying -part of the Nawab's private equipage in advance to -Baraset, a few miles north of Calcutta, there to await the -arrival of the main army. To make the imposition more -effective, he called for the lambadar[#] of the village and -ordered him in the Nawab's name to despatch a flotilla of -twenty-five wollacks[#] to Cutwa to convey the official -baggage. The plan proved successful. Desmond found -himself regarded as a person of importance; the natives -humbly salaamed to him; and, taking matters with a high -hand, he impressed a score of the village idlers into the -work of transferring his precious bales from the boats to -the hackeris. The work was accomplished in half an hour.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Headman.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Barges.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Bulger," said Desmond, when the loading was done, -"you will consider yourself in charge of this convoy. The -Babu will interpret for you. You will hurry on as fast as -possible towards Calcutta. I shall overtake you by and -by. The people here believe that I am a Frenchman, so -you had better pass as that too, for of course your -disguise will deceive no native in the daylight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well I knows it," said Bulger. "They've been starin' -at me like as if I was a prize pig this half-hour and more, -and lookin' most uncommon curious at my little button-hook. -But, sir, I don't see any call for me to make out -I'm a mounseer. 'T'ud make me uneasy inside, sir, the -very thought of eatin' what they mounseers eat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My good man, there's no need to carry it too far. Do -as you please, only take care of the goods."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Except Desmond and four men whom he retained, the -whole party moved off with the hackeris towards Calcutta. -The road was an unmade track, heavy with dust, rough, -execrably bad; and at the gumashta's suggestion -Desmond had arranged for three extra teams of oxen to -accompany the carts, to extricate them in case of necessity -from holes or soft places. Fortunately the weather was -dry: had the rains begun--and they were overdue--the -road would have been a slough of mud and ooze, and the -journey would have been impossible.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the convoy had set off, Desmond with three men, -including the serang, returned to the empty boats. The -lookers-on stared to see the craft put off and drop down -the river with a crew of one man each: Desmond in the -first, and the smaller boat that had contained Bulger and -his party trailing behind. Floating down some four or -five miles with the stream, Desmond gave the order to -scuttle the three petalas, and rowed ashore in the smaller -boat. On reaching land he got the serang to knock a hole -in the bottom of the boat, and shoved it off towards mid -stream, where it rapidly filled and sank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was full daylight when Desmond and his party of -three struck off inland in a direction that would bring -them upon the track of the carts. He had a presentiment -that his difficulties were only beginning. By this -time, no doubt, the news of his escapade had been carried -through the country by the swift kasids of the Nawab. -His passing at Khulna and Amboa would be reported, and -a watch would be kept for him at Hugli. If perchance a -kasid or a chance traveller entered Santipur, the trick -he had practised there would be immediately discovered; -but if the messenger only touched at the places on the -direct route on the other bank, he might hope that some -time would elapse before the authorities there suspected -that he had left the river. They must soon learn that three -petalas lay wrecked in the stream below Amboa; but they -could not satisfy themselves without examination that -these were the vessels of which they were in search.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Tramping across two miles of fields newly sown with -maize and sorghum, he at length descried the trail of -his convoy and soon came up with it. If pursuers were -indeed upon his track, only by the greatest good fortune -could he escape them. The carts creaked along with -painful slowness; the wheels half-way to the axles in -dust; now stopping altogether, now rocking like ships -in a stormy sea. With his arrival and the promise of -liberal bakshish the hackeriwallahs urged the labouring -oxen with their cruel goads till Desmond, always tender -with animals, could hardly endure the sight. By nine -o'clock the morning had become stiflingly hot. There -was little or no breeze, and Desmond, unused of late to -active exercise, found the heat terribly trying. But -Bulger suffered still more. A stout, florid man, he toiled -along, panting, streaming with sweat, in difficulties so -manifest that Desmond, eyeing him anxiously, feared lest -a stroke of apoplexy should bring him to an untimely end.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The country was so flat that a string of carts could not -fail to be seen from a long distance. If noticed from -the towers of Hugli across the river, curiosity, if not -suspicion, would be aroused, and it would not take long -to send over by a ford a force sufficient to arrest and -capture the party. To escape observation it was necessary -to make wide detours. At several small hamlets on the -route Desmond managed to get fresh oxen, but not enough -for complete changes of team. So, through all the -broiling heat of the day, at hours when no other Europeans in -all Bengal were out of doors, the convoy struggled on, -making its own road, crossing the dry beds of pools, -skirting or labouring over rugged nullahs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At nightfall Desmond learnt from one of the drivers -that they were still six miles short of being opposite to -Hugli. The patient Bengalis could endure no more; the -oxen were done up, the men refused to go further -without a rest. Halting at a hamlet some five miles from -the river, they rested and fed till midnight, then set off -again. It was not so insufferably hot at night, but on -the other hand they were less able to avoid obstructions: -and the rest had not been long enough to make up for -the terrible exertions of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By daybreak they were some distance past Hugli, still -keeping about five miles from the river. Desmond was -beginning to congratulate himself that the worst was -over; Barrakpur was only about twelve miles away. -But a little after dawn he caught sight of a European -on horseback crossing their track towards the river. He -was going at a walking pace, attended by two syces.[#] -Attracted, apparently, by the sight, unusual at this time -of year, of a string of hackeris, he wheeled his horse -and cantered towards the tail of the convoy, which was -under Bulger's charge.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Grooms.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Eo, hackeriwallah," he said in Urdu to the rearmost -driver, "to whom do these hackeris belong?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To the great Company, huzur. The sahib will tell you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sahib!--what sahib?" asked the rider in astonishment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sahib yonder," replied the man, pointing to Bulger. -Bulger had been staring at the horseman, and growing -more and more red in the face. Catching the rider's -surprised look, he could contain himself no longer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder! 'tis that villain Diggle!" he shouted, and -rushed forward to drag him from his horse.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But Diggle was not taken unawares. Setting spurs to -his steed, he caused it to spring away. Bulger raised -his musket, but ere he could fire Diggle was out of -range. Keeping a careful distance he rode leisurely -along the whole convoy, and a smile of malignant -pleasure shone upon his face as he took stock of its contents. -Meanwhile Bulger, already repenting of his hasty action, -hurried forward to acquaint Desmond with what had -happened. Diggle's smile broadened; he halted and took -a long look at the tall figure in native dress to whom -Bulger was so excitedly speaking. Then, turning his -horse in the direction of the river, he spoke over his -shoulder to his syces and galloped away, followed by -them at a run.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You were a fool, Bulger," said Desmond testily. -"This may lead to no end of trouble."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger looked penitent, and wrathful, and overwhelmed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must try to hurry," added Desmond to Surendra -Nath. "Promise the men more bakshish: don't stint."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For two hours longer they pushed on with all the speed -of which the jaded beasts were capable. Every now and -again Desmond looked anxiously back, hoping against -hope that they would not be pursued. But he knew -that Diggle had recognized him, and being prepared for -the worst, he began to rack his brains for some means -of defence. Misfortune seemed to dog him. Two of the -oxen collapsed. It was necessary to distribute the loads -of their hackeris among the others. The march was -delayed, and when the convoy was again under way, its -progress was slower than ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It had, indeed, barely started, when in the distance -Desmond spied a horseman cantering towards them. A -few minutes revealed him as Diggle. He rode up almost -within musket-shot, then turned and trotted back. What -was the meaning of his action? Desmond, from his -position near the foremost hackeri, could see nothing -more. But, a few yards ahead of him, to the right of -the track, there was a low artificial mound, possibly the -site of an ancient temple, standing at the edge of a -nullah, its top some ten or twelve feet above the -surrounding plain. Hastening to this he gained the summit, -and, looking back, saw a numerous body of men on foot -advancing rapidly from the quarter whence the horseman -had ridden. In twenty minutes they would have come -up with the convoy. He must turn at bay.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He glanced anxiously around. He was in the midst -of a dry, slightly undulating plain, the new-sown fields -awaiting the rains to spring into verdure. Here and -there were clumps of trees--the towering palmyra with -its fan-shaped foliage, the bamboo with its feathery -branches, the plantain, throwing its immense leaves of -vivid green into every fantastic form. There was no -safety on the plain. But below him was the nullah, -thirty feet deep, eighty yards wide, soon to be a swollen -torrent dashing towards the Hugli, but now dry. Its -sides were in parts steep, and unscalable in face of -determined resistance. In a moment Desmond saw the utmost -of possibility.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Running back to the convoy, he turned its head towards -the mound, and, calling every man to the help of the oxen, -he dragged the carts one by one to the top. There he -caused the beasts to be unyoked, and placed the hackeris, -their poles interlocked, so as to form a rough semicircular -breastwork around the summit of the mound. For a -moment he hesitated in deciding what to do with the cattle. -Should he keep them within his little entrenchment? If -they took fright they might stampede and do mischief; -in any case they would be in the way, and he resolved -to send them all off under charge of such of the drivers -as were too timid to remain. He noticed that the Babu -was quivering with alarm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surendra Nath," he said, "this is no place for you. -Slip away quietly; go towards Calcutta; and if you meet -Mr. Merriman coming in response to my message, tell him -the plight we are in and ask him to hasten to our help."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not like to show the white feather, sir," said the -Babu.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at all, Babu, we must have a trustworthy -messenger: you are the man. Now get away as fast as you -can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu departed on his errand with the speed of -gladness and relief.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The ground sloped sharply outwards from the carts, and -the rear of the position was formed by the nullah. The -last two hackeris were being placed in position when the -vanguard of the pursuers, with Diggle at their head, came -to a point just out of range. The party was larger than -Desmond had estimated it to be at his first hasty glance. -There were some twenty men armed with matchlocks, and -forty with swords and lathis. All were natives. His heart -sank as he measured the odds against him. What was -his dismay when he saw, half a mile off, another body -following up. And these were white men! Was Diggle -bringing the French of Chandernagore into the fray?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond posted his twelve armed peons behind the -hackeris. He gave them strict orders to fire only at the -word of command, and as they had undergone some discipline -in Calcutta he hoped that, if only in self-preservation, -they would maintain a certain steadiness. Behind -them he placed twelve sturdy boatmen armed with half -pikes, instructing them to take the place of the peons -when they had fired. Bulger stood at the midpoint of the -semicircle; his rough square face was a deep purple with -a rim of black; his dhoti had become loosened, leaving his -great shoulders and brawny chest bare; his turban was -awry; his eyes, bloodshot with the heat, were as the eyes -of Mars himself, burning with the fire of battle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The pursuers had halted. Diggle came forward, -trotting his horse up to the base of the mound. The peons -fingered their matchlocks and looked expectant; Bulger -growled; but Desmond gazed serenely at his enemy.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your disguise is excellent," said Diggle in his smoothest -tones; "but I believe I speak to Mr. Desmond Burke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, stepping forward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am glad to have overtaken you. Sure you have -encamped early. I have a message from my friend the -Faujdar of Hugli. By some mistake a consignment of -merchandise has been illegally removed from Cossimbazar, -and the Faujdar, understanding that the goods are -contained in these carts, bids me ask you to deliver them up -to his men, whom you see here with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was anxious to gain time. He thought out -his plan of action while Diggle was speaking. His -impulsiveness prompted a flat defiance in few words; policy -counselled a formality of utterance equal to Diggle's.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"These carts certainly contain merchandise, Mr. Diggle," -he said. "It is the property of Mr. Edward Merriman, of -Calcutta; I think you know him? It was removed from -Cossimbazar; but not, I assure you, illegally. I have the -dastaks authorizing its removal to Calcutta; they are -signed by the Faujdar of Murshidabad. Has the Faujdar -of--where did you say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of Hugli."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Has the Faujdar of Hugli power to countermand what -the Faujdar of the capital has done?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why discuss that point?" said Diggle with a smile. -"The Faujdar of Hugli is an officer of the Nawab; 'hoc -sat est tibi'--blunt language, but the phrase is Tully's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I waive that. But I am not satisfied that you, -an Englishman, have authority to act for the Faujdar of -Hugli. The crowd I see before me--a rabble of -lathi-wallahs--clearly cannot be the Faujdar's men." At this -point he heard an exclamation from Bulger. The second -body of men had come up and ranked themselves behind -the first. "And may I ask," added Desmond, with a -slight gesture to Bulger to restrain himself; he too had -recognized the new-comers; "since when the Nawab has -taken into his service the crew of an interloping English -merchantman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will give you full information, Mr. Burke," said -Diggle suavely, "when we stand together before my friend -the Faujdar. In the meantime you will, if I may venture -to advise, consult your interest best in yielding to superior -numbers and delivering up the goods."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what about myself, Mr. Diggle?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You, of course, will accompany me to the Faujdar. -He will be incensed, I make no doubt, at your temerity, -and not unjustly; but I will intercede for you, and you will -be treated with the most delicate attentions."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You speak fair, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, still bent -upon gaining time; "but that is your way. What -assurance have I that you will, this time, keep your word?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You persist in misjudging me," said Diggle regretfully. -"As Cicero says in the play, you construe things -after your fashion, clean from the purpose of the things -themselves. My interest in you is undiminished; nay -rather, it is increased and mixed with admiration. My -offers still hold good: join hands with me, and I promise -you that you shall soon be a </span><em class="italics">persona grata</em><span> at the court of -Murshidabad, with wealth and honours in your grasp."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your offer is tempting, Mr. Diggle, to a poor adventurer -like me, and if only my own interests were involved, -I might strike a bargain with you. I have had such -excellent reasons to trust you in the past! But the goods are -not mine; they are Mr. Merriman's; and the utmost I can -do at present is to ask you to draw your men off and wait -while I send a messenger to Calcutta. When he returns -with Mr. Merriman's consent to the delivery of the goods, -then----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The sentence remained unfinished. Diggle's expression -had become blacker and blacker as Desmond spoke, -and seeing with fury that he was being played with he -suddenly wheeled round, and, cantering back to his men, -gave the order to fire. At the same moment Desmond -called to his men to lie flat on the ground and aim at the -enemy from behind the thick wooden wheels of the -hackeris. Being on the flat top of the mound, they were to -some extent below the line of fire from the plain, and when -the first volley was delivered no harm was done to them -save for a few scratches made by flying splinters from -the carts. But the crack of the matchlocks struck -terror into the pale hearts of some of the hackeriwallahs. -Several sprang over the breastwork and scuttled away like -scared rabbits. The remainder stood firm, grasping their -lathis in a manner that showed the fighting instinct to be -strong, even in the Bengali.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Many anxious looks were bent upon Desmond, his men -expecting the order to fire. But he bade them remain still, -and through the interval between two carts he watched for -the rush that was coming. The crew of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, -headed by Sunman the cross-eyed mate and Parmiter, had -come up behind the natives. These having emptied their -matchlocks were now retiring to reload. Diggle had -dismounted, and was talking earnestly with the mate. They -walked together to the edge of the nullah, and looked up -and down it, doubtless canvassing the chances of an attack -in the rear; but the sides were steep; there was no hope of -success in this direction; and they rejoined the main body.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Evidently they had decided on making a vigorous direct -attack over the carts. Dividing his troop into two portions, -Diggle put himself at the head of the one, Sunman at the -head of the other. Arranged in a semicircle concentric -with the breastwork, at the word of command all the men -with firearms discharged their pieces; then, with shrill cries -from the natives, and a hoarse cheer from the crew of the -</span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, they charged in a close line up the slope. -Behind the barricade the men's impatience had only been -curbed by the quiet imperturbable manner of their young -leader. But their self-restraint was on the point of -breaking down when, short, sharp, and clear, the long-awaited -command was given. Their matchlocks flashed; the volley -told with deadly effect at the short range of thirty paces; -four or five men dropped; as many more staggered down -the slope; the rest halted indecisively, in doubt whether to -push forward or turn tail.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Blockheads! cowards!" shouted Diggle in a fury. -"Push on, you dogs; we are four to one!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was now a very different Diggle from the man -Desmond had known hitherto. His smile was gone; all -languor and indolence was lost; his eyes flashed, his lips met -in a hard cruel line; his voice rang out strong and metallic. -That he was no coward Desmond already knew. He -put himself in the forefront of the line, and, as always -happens, a brave leader never lacks followers. The whole -of the seamen and many of the Bengalis surged forward -after him. Behind the breastwork all the men were now -mixed up--musketeers with pikemen and lathiwallahs. -Upon these came the swarming enemy, some clambering -over the carts, others wriggling between the wheels. -There was a babel of cries; the exultant bellow of the -born fighter, British or native; a few pistol-shots; the -scream of the men mortally hit; the "Wah! wah!" of -the Bengalis applauding their own prowess.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As Diggle had said, the odds were four to one. But the -defenders had the advantage of position, and for a few -moments they held the yelling mob at bay. The -half-pikes of the boatmen were terrible weapons at close -quarters, more formidable than the cutlasses of the -seamen balked by the breastwork, or the loaded bamboo -clubs of the lathiwallahs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Sunman the mate was one of the first victims; he fell to -a shot from Bulger. But Parmiter and Diggle, followed -by half a dozen of the sailors, and a score of the more -determined lathiwallahs and musketeers with clubbed -muskets, succeeded in clambering to the top of the carts -and prepared to jump down among the defenders, most -of whom were busily engaged in jabbing at the men -swarming in between the wheels. Desmond saw that if -his barricade was once broken through the issue of the -fight must be decided by mere weight of numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bulger, here!" he cried, "and you, Hossain."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men sprang to him, and, following his example, -leapt on to the cart next to that occupied by Diggle and -Parmiter. Desmond's intention was to take them in flank. -Jumping over the bales of silk, he swung over his head -a matchlock he had seized from one of his peons, and -brought it down with a horizontal sweep. Two of the -Bengalis among the crowd of lathiwallahs, who were -hanging back out of reach of the boatmen's pikes, were -swept off the cart. But the violence of his blow -disturbed Desmond's own balance; he fell on one knee; -his matchlock was seized and jerked out of his hand; and -in a second three men were upon him. Bulger and the -serang, although a little late owing to want of agility -in scaling the cart, were close behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Belay there!" roared Bulger, as he flung himself upon -the combatants.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The bullet head of one sturdy badmash cracked like an -egg-shell under the butt of the bold tar's musket; a second -received the terrible hook square in the teeth; and a third, -no other than Parmiter himself, was caught round the -neck at the next lunge of the hook, and flung, with a -mighty heave, full into the midst of the defenders. Bulger -drew a long breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the same moment Diggle, attacked by the serang, -was thrown from his perch on the hackeri and fell among -his followers outside the barricade. There was a moment's -lull while both parties recovered their wind. Firing had -ceased; to load a matchlock was a long affair, and though -the attackers might have divided and come forward in -relays with loaded weapons, they would have run the risk -of hitting their own friends. It was to be again a -hand-to-hand fight. Diggle was not to be denied. Desmond, -who had jumped down inside the barricade when the -pressure was relieved by Bulger, could not but admire -the spirit and determination of his old enemy, though it -boded ill for his own chance of escape. He was weary; -worn out by want of rest and food; almost prostrated -by the terrible heat. Looking round his little fort, he felt -a tremor as he saw that five out of his twenty-four men -were more or less disabled. True, there were now more -than a dozen of the enemy in the same or a worse plight; -but they could afford their losses, and Desmond indeed -wondered why Diggle did not sacrifice a few men in one -fierce overwhelming onslaught.</span></p> -<div class="align-center auto-scaled figure margin" style="width: 62%" id="figure-40"> -<img class="align-center block" style="display: block; width: 100%" alt="THE BATTLE OF THE CARTS." src="images/img-290.jpg" /> -<div class="caption centerleft figure-caption margin"> -<span class="italics">THE BATTLE OF THE CARTS.</span></div> -</div> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A hundred rupees to the man who kills the young -sahib, two hundred to the man who takes him alive!" -cried Diggle to his dusky followers, as though in answer -to Desmond's thought. Then, turning to the discomfited -crew of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, he said: "Sure, my men, you -will not be beat by a boy and a one-armed man. There's -a fortune for all of you in those carts. At them again, -my men; I'll show you the way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was as good as his word. He snatched a long lathi -from one of the Bengalis and rushed up the slope to the -hacked nearest the nullah. Finding a purchase for one -end of his club in the woodwork of the wagon, he put -forth all his strength in the effort to push it over the edge. -Owing to the length of the lathi he was out of reach of -the half-pikes in the hands of the boatmen, who had to -lunge either over or under the carts. His unaided strength -would have been unequal to the task of moving the hackeri, -heavily laden as it was, resting on soft soil, and -interlocked with the next. But as soon as his followers saw -the aim of his movements, and especially when they found -that the defenders could not touch him without exposing -themselves, he gained as many eager helpers as could -brine their lathis to bear upon the two carts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile the defence at this spot was weak, for the -men of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> had swarmed up to the adjoining -carts and were threatening at any moment to force a way -over the barricade. They were more formidable enemies -than the Bengalis. Slowly the two hackeris began to -move, till the wheels of one hung over the edge of the -nullah. One more united heave, and it rolled over, dragging -the other cart with it and splitting itself into a hundred -fragments on the rocky bottom. Through the gap thus -formed in the barricade sprang Diggle, with half a dozen -men of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> and a score of Bengalis.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond gathered his little band into a knot in the -centre of the enclosure. Then the brazen sun looked -down upon a Homeric struggle. Bulger, brawny warrior -of the iron hook, swung his musket like a flail, every -now and again shooting forth his more sinister weapon -with terrible effect. Desmond, slim and athletic, dashed -in upon the enemy with his half-pike as they recoiled -before Bulger's whirling musket. The rest, now a bare -dozen, Bengalis though they were, presented still an -undaunted front to the swarm that surged into the narrow -space. The hot air grew hotter with the fight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To avoid being surrounded, the little band instinctively -backed towards the edge of the nullah. Diggle exulted -as they were pressed remorselessly to the rear. Not a -man dreamt of surrender; the temper of the assailants -was indeed so savage that nothing but the annihilation -of their victims would now satisfy them. Yet Diggle -once again bethought himself that Desmond might be -worth to him more alive than dead, and in the midst of -the clamour Desmond heard him repeat his offer of reward -to the man who should capture him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Diggle himself resolved to make the attempt. Venturing -too near, he received an ugly gash from Desmond's -pike, promising a permanent mark from brow to chin. -This was too much for him. Beside himself with fury, -he yelled a command to his men to sweep the pigs over -the brink, and, one side of his face livid with rage, the -other streaming with blood, he dashed forward at Bulger, -who had come up panting to engage him. He had well -timed his rush, for Bulger's musket was at the far end -of its pendulum swing; but the old seaman saw his danger -in time. With a movement of extraordinary agility in -a man of his bulk, he swung on his heel, presenting his -side to the rapier that flashed in Diggle's hand. Parrying -the thrust with his hook, he shortened his stump and -lunged at Diggle below the belt. His enemy collapsed -as if shot; but his followers swept forward over his -prostrate body, and it seemed as if, in one brief half-minute, -the knot of defenders would be hurled to the bottom of -the nullah.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, at this critical moment, assailants and defenders -were stricken into quietude by a tumultuous cheer, the -cheer of Europeans, from the direction of the gap in the -barricade. Weapons remained poised in mid-air; every -man stood motionless, wondering whether the interruption -came from friend or foe. The question was answered on -the instant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, men, have at them!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a thrill Desmond recognized the voice. It was -the voice of Silas Toley. There was nothing of melancholy -in it, nor in the expression of the New Englander as he -sprang, cutlass in hand, through the gap. Slow to take -fire, when Toley's anger was kindled it blazed with a -devouring flame. The crowd of assailants dissolved as -if by magic. Before the last of the crew of the -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>, lascars and Europeans, had passed into the -enclosure, the men of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> and their Bengali -allies were streaming over and under the carts towards -the open. Diggle at the first shock had staggered to -his feet and stumbled towards the barricade. As he -reached it, a black boy, springing as it were out of the -earth, hastened to him and helped him to crawl between -the wheels of a cart and down the slope. On the boy's -arm he limped towards his horse, tethered to a tree. A -wounded wretch was clumsily attempting to mount. Him -Diggle felled; then he climbed painfully into the saddle -and galloped away, Scipio Africanus leaping up behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By this time his followers were dispersing in all -directions--all but eight luckless men who would never more -wield cutlass or lathi, and a dozen who lay on one side -or other of the barricade, too hard hit to move.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-third"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-THIRD</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which there are many moving events; and -our hero finds himself a cadet of John -Company.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Diggle's escape passed unnoticed until it was too late to -pursue him. At the sight of Toley and his messmates of -the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>, Bulger had let fall his musket and dropped -to the ground, where he sat mopping his face and crying -"Go it, mateys!" Desmond felt a strange faintness, and -leant dizzily against one of the hackeris. But, revived by -a draught from Mr. Toley's flask, he thanked the mate -warmly, and wanted to hear how he had contrived to come -up in time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When Desmond's messenger arrived in Calcutta, Mr. Merriman -was away up the river, engaged in very serious -business. The messenger had applied to the Governor, to -members of the Council, to Captain Minchin and other -officers, and the reply of one and all was the same: they could -do nothing; it was more important that every man should -be employed in strengthening the defences of Calcutta than -in going up-country on what might prove a vain and -useless errand. But Toley happened to be in the town, and -hearing of the difficulties and perils of his friend Burke, -with the captain's consent he had hastily collected the -crew of the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>, that still lay off the Fort, and -led them, under the guidance of the messenger, to support -him. Meeting Surendra Nath, and learning from him -that a fight was imminent, he had pushed on with all -speed, the Babu leading the way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was well done," said Desmond warmly. "We owe -our lives to you, and Mr. Merriman his goods. But what -was the business that took Mr. Merriman from Calcutta at -this time of trouble?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Trouble of his own, Burke," said Mr. Toley. "I -guess he'd better have let the Nawab keep his goods and -sent you to look after his women-folk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean? I left the ladies at Khulna; -what has happened to them?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis what Mr. Merriman would fain know. They've -disappeared, gone clean out of sight."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But the peons?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Gone too. Nothing heard or seen of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This serious news came as a shock to Desmond. If he -had only known! How willingly he would have let Coja -Solomon do what he pleased with the goods, and hastened -to the help of the wife and daughter Mr. Merriman held so -dear! While in Cossimbazar, he had heard from Mr. Watts -terrible stories of the Nawab's villainy, which no -respect of persons held in check. He feared that if -Mrs. Merriman and Phyllis had indeed fallen into Siraj-uddaula's -hands, they were lost to their family and friends for ever.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But, eager as he was to get back to Calcutta and join -Mr. Merriman in searching for them, he had a strange -certainty that it was not to be. The faintness that he -had already felt returned. His head was burning and -throbbing; his ears buzzed; his limbs ached; his whole -frame was seized at moments with paroxysms of -shivering which no effort could control. Unknown to himself -the seeds of malarial fever had found a lodgment in his -system. While listening to Toley's story, he had reclined -on the ground. When he tried to rise, he was overcome -by giddiness and nausea.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am done up," he continued. "Mr. Toley, you must -take charge and get these goods conveyed to Calcutta. -Lose no time."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Surendra Nath recognized the symptoms of the disease, -and immediately had a litter improvised for Desmond out -of the linen covering of one of the carts and a couple of -muskets. Mr. Toley at once made preparations for moving -on with the convoy. The hackeriwallahs who had driven -off the cattle had not gone far; they had waited in the -hope of getting the bakshish promised them--if not from -the young sahib, at least from the leader of the attacking -party, which from its numbers they believed would gain -the day. The oxen were soon yoked up. Mr. Toley -would not wait to recover the loads of the carts that had -toppled into the nullah, nor would he leave men for that -purpose, lest another attack should be made on them from -Hugli. He set off as soon as the teams were ready. Half -an hour after they started, Bulger, walking beside the -litter, saw to his dismay that Desmond had lost consciousness.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was nearly a fortnight later when Desmond came to -himself in his old bunk on board the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>. He -was alone. Lying on his back, feebly trying to adjust his -thoughts to his surroundings, he heard the faint boom of -guns. What was happening? He tried to rise, but all -power was gone from him; he could hardly lift an arm. -Even the slight effort was too much for him, and he -swooned again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When he once more recovered consciousness, he saw -a figure by his side. It was Mr. Toley. Again the -distant thunder of artillery fell upon his ears.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is happening?" he asked, feebly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Almighty be praised!" said Toley fervently, "you're -coming safe to port. Hush! Lie you still. You'll want -nussin' like a babby. Never you heed the pop-guns; I'll -tell you all about them when you're stronger. Food, sleep, -and air; that's my catechism, larned from the surgeon. -Bless you, Burke, I feared you was a done man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With this Desmond had to be for the time content. -But every day he heard firing, and every day, as he -slowly regained strength, he became more and more -anxious to know what it meant. Toley seemed to have -left the ship; Desmond was tended only by natives. From -them he learned that the Nawab was attacking Calcutta. -How were the defenders faring? They could not tell. He -knew how small was the garrison, how weak the fortifications; -but, with an English lad's unconquerable faith in -his countrymen's valour, he could not believe that they -could fail to hold their own.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day, however, he heard no more firing. In the -afternoon Mr. Toley came to his bunk, bringing with him -Mr. Merriman himself. The merchant had his head bound -up, and wore his left arm in a sling. He was pale, -haggard, the shadow of his former self.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What has happened, sir?" cried Desmond the instant -he saw him. "Are the ladies safe?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God pity us, Desmond! I shall never see them again. -My poor Dora! my sweet Phyllis! They are lost! All is -lost! The Nawab has taken the Fort. We are beaten, -shamed, ruined!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did it happen? I heard the firing. Tell me; it -cannot be so bad as that. Sure something can be done!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, nothing; we did all we could. 'Twas little; -would that Drake had heeded our advice! But I am -rejoiced to see you on the road to recovery, dear boy; -'twould have been another nail in my coffin to know that -you had lost your life in doing a service for me. I thank -God for that, from the bottom of my heart."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He pressed Desmond's hand affectionately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But tell me, sir; I want to know what has happened. -How came you to be wounded? Sure I am strong enough -to hear now; it will do me no harm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It cuts me to the heart, Desmond, but you shall know. -I was absent when you were carried to my house--searching -for my dear ones. But Dr. Gray tended you; alas! the -good man is now a prisoner. I returned three days -after, driven back from up the river by the advance of the -Nawab's army. I was worn out, distraught; not a trace -had I found of my dear wife; she had vanished; nor of my -daughter; nor even of my peons; all had gone. And there -was trouble enough in Calcutta, for me and for all. 'Twas -the very day I returned that news came of Siraj-uddaula's -approach. And a letter from his chief spy was intercepted, -addressed to Omichand, bidding him escape while there -was yet time and join the Subah. That seemed to -Mr. Drake clear proof that Omichand was in league with our -enemies, and he had him arrested and thrown into the -Fort prison. But Mr. Drake never acts till 'tis too late. -He gave orders next to arrest Krishna Das. The man -barricaded himself in his house and beat our peons off, till -Lieutenant Blagg and thirty Europeans drove in his gates. -They found a vast quantity of arms collected there. They -stormed Omichand's house also, where three hundred -armed domestics made a stout fight against 'em. When -our men got in--'tis a horrid story--the head jamadar with -his own hands stabbed all his master's women and children, -to prevent 'em falling into our hands, and then set -fire to the place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our men had already been driven out of Tanna fort by -Manik Chand, who had come up with two thousand men -and a couple of field-pieces. Then came up Mir Jafar, the -Nawab's bakshi,[#] and began firing from the Chitpur gate. -We got all our women into the Fort; the poor creatures -left all they had but their clothes and their bedding. You -may guess the confusion. The natives were flocking out -of the town; most of our servants fled with them; all our -cooks were gone, so that though we had a great stock -of food we were like to starve in the midst of plenty. But -we filled their places with some of the Portuguese who -came crowding into the Fort. Two thousand of 'em, men, -women, and children, filled the courtyard, sitting among -their bundles of goods, so that we could scarce move for -'em. The enemy was in the town; they had set light -to the Great Bazar, and were burning and plundering in -the native parts. We fired the bastis[#] to the east and -south, to deprive 'em of cover; and you may imagine -the scene, Desmond--the blazing sky, the tears and -screams of the women, the din of guns. We wrote to -the French at Chandernagore begging 'em to lend us some -ammunition, for the most of ours was useless; but they -sent us a genteel reply saying they'd no more than -sufficient for their own needs; yet the wretches made the -Nawab a present of two hundred chests of powder, 'tis -said.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Commander-in-chief.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Blocks of huts.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Next day we were besieged in earnest. The Nawab -had, we learnt, nigh 50,000 men, with 150 elephants and -camels, and 250 Frenchmen working his artillery. Against -'em we had about 500 in all, only half of 'em Europeans. -What could so few do against so many? Our officers -were all brave enough, but they've had a slack time, and -few of 'em are fit for their work. Ensign Picard, sure, -did wonders, and Lieutenant Smyth defended the North -battery with exceeding skill; but we had not men enough -to hold our positions, and step by step we were driven -back. 'Twas clear we could not hold out long, and on -Friday night we held a council of war, and decided to -send the women on board the ships in the river, to get 'em -out of harm's way. Then by heaven! Desmond, two of -the Council shamed 'emselves for ever. Mr. Manningham -and Mr. Frankland, special friends of Mr. Drake, attended -the ladies to the ship--'twas the </span><em class="italics">Dodalay</em><span>, of which they -are owners--and they stayed on board with 'em--the -cowards, to set such an infamous example! And well -'twas followed. 'Tis scarce credible, but Captain Minchin, -our gallant commander, and Mr. Drake, our noble -president, went down to the ghat and had 'emselves rowed off -to the shipping and deserted us: good God! do they -deserve the name of Englishmen? One of our gentlemen -standing on the steps was so enraged that he sent a bullet -after the cravens; others did the same, and I would to -heaven that one of their shots had took effect on the -wretches! We made Mr. Holwell governor in the Quaker's -place; and I tell you, Desmond, had we done so before, -there would have been a different story to tell this day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Holwell saw 'twas impossible to withstand the -Nawab's hordes much longer, and spoke for an orderly -retreat; but he was overrid by some of the military -officers; and besides, retreat was cut off, for the ships -that had lain in the river moved away, and though we -hung out signals from the Fort asking 'em to come back -and take us off, they paid no heed; nay, they stood further -off, leaving us to our fate. What could we do? Mr. Holwell -sent to Omichand in his prison and offered to -release him if he would treat with the Nawab for us. But -the Gentoo refused. All he would do was to write a letter -to Manik Chand asking him to intercede for us. Mr. Holwell -threw the letter over the wall among the enemy, and -by heaven! Desmond, never did I suppose Englishmen -would be reduced to such a point of humiliation. But -'twas of no effect. The enemy came on with the more -determination, and brought bamboos to scale the walls. -We drove 'em off again, but with frightful loss; -twenty-five of our bravest men were killed outright and sixty -wounded. 'Twas there I got my wounds, and 'twould -have been all over with me but for that fine fellow Bulger; -he turned aside with his hook a slashing blow from a -scimitar and gave my assailant his quietus. Bulger fought -like a hero, and the very look of him, black with powder -and stained with blood, seemed to drive all the fight out -of the Moors that came his way.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All this time the shots of the Nawab's cannon annoyed -us, not to much harm, for they were most villainously -served; their fire-arrows did us more mischief, flying into -the thick of the crowds of screaming women and children. -It made my heart sick to think of the poor innocent people -suffering through the weakness and incompetence and the -guilty neglect of our Council. The heat and the glare, -the want of food, the uproar and commotion--may I never -see or hear the like again!</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yesterday there was a lull in the fighting about -mid-day. The enemy were still outside the Fort, though they -had possession of all the houses around. They showed a -flag of truce, whereupon Mr. Holwell writ a letter asking -'em for terms. But 'twas a trick to deceive us. While -we were resting, waiting the result of the parley, the -Moors poured out of their hiding-places and swarmed -upon the eastern gate of the Fort and the pallisadoes on the -south-west. In the interval many of our common men -had fallen asleep, some, alas! were drunk, so that we had -no force to resist the invaders, who scaled the roof of the -godowns on the north wall with the aid of their bamboos -and swept over into the Fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Most of us Europeans who were left collected in the -veranda in front of the barracks--you know, between the -great gate and the south-east bastion. Scarce a man of -us but was wounded. There we were unmolested, for the -enemy, as soon as they burst into our private rooms, -made busy with their spoil; and, as it appeared, the -Nawab had given orders that we were to be spared. At -five o'clock he came into the Fort in a gay litter and held a -durbar in our Council room, Mir Jafar salaaming before -him and making fulsome compliments on his great victory. -Then the wretch sent for Mr. Holwell. We bade him -farewell; sure we thought we should never see him more. -But he returned to us presently, and told us the Nawab -was vastly enraged at the smallness of the treasure he had -found; the stories of the French had led him to expect -untold wealth. Omichand and Krishna Das had been -took out of prison, and treated with great affability, and -presented by the Nawab with siropas--robes of honour, -a precious token of his favour. But the Nawab, Mr. Holwell -told us, had promised no harm should befall us. A -guard of 500 gun-men was set over us with matches -lighted, and the sun being now nigh setting, men came -with torches, though sure they were not needed, a great -part of the factory being in flames, so that indeed we -feared we should be suffocated. But we were shortly -afterwards told to go into the barracks, nigh the veranda -where we stood. Then it was that I, by the mercy of -God, was enabled to escape. I was at the end of the -veranda, farthest from the barracks. Just as I was about -to move off after the rest, one of the guards came in front -of me, and whispered me to hide behind the last of the -thick pillars till he came for me. I recognized the man: -'twas an old peon of mine. Thank God for a faithful -servant! More dead than alive I did what he said. For -hours I lay there, fearing I know not what, not daring to -stir lest some eye should see me, and suffering agonies -from my untended wounds. At last the man came to me. -'Sahib,' he said, 'you were good to me. I will save you. -Come quickly.' I got up and stumbled after him. He -led me by dark ways out of the Fort, past the new godown, -across the burying-ground, down to Chandpal ghat. There -I found Mr. Toley awaiting me with a boat, and 'tis thanks -to my old peon and him I now find myself safe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And do you know what became of Bulger?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is with the rest, sorely battered, poor man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What will happen to the prisoners? How many are there?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There are nigh a hundred and fifty. The Nawab has -promised they shall suffer no harm, and after a night in -barracks I suppose he will let 'em go. We shall drop -down the river till we reach the other vessels at Surman's, -and then, by heaven! I shall see what I can do to bring -Mr. Drake to a sense of his duty, and persuade him to -come back and take off the Europeans. Sure this action -of Siraj-uddaula's will not go unavenged. We have -already sent letters to Madras, and within two months, -I hope, succour will reach us from thence, and we shall -chastise this insolent young Nawab."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think he will keep his word?--I mean, to do -the prisoners no harm."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think so. He has done no harm to Mr. Watts, -whom he brought with him from Cossimbazar; and our -people will be more valuable to him alive than dead. Yes; -by this time to-morrow I trust Mr. Holwell and the others -will be safe on board the ships, and I do not envy -Mr. Drake his bitter experience when the men he has deserted -confront him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Mr. Merriman was telling his story, the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> -was slowly drifting down the river. At Surman's -garden, about five miles south of Calcutta, it joined the -other vessels belonging to British owners, and dropped -anchor. Several gentlemen came on board, eager to learn -what had been the last scene in the tragic drama. -Mr. Merriman told them all he knew, and every one drew a -long breath of relief when they learnt that, though prisoners, -Mr. Holwell and the gallant few who had stuck to -their posts had been assured of good treatment. During -the day the vessel dropped still lower down the river -to Budge Budge, running the gauntlet of a brisk but -ineffective fire from Tanna Fort, now in the hands of the -Nawab's troops.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>When the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> lay at anchor at Budge Budge, -Mr. Merriman explained to Desmond the plans he had -formed for him. The vessel now had her full cargo, and -would sail immediately for Penang. Mr. Merriman -proposed that Desmond should make the voyage. In his -weak state the climate of Fulta, where the Europeans -intended to stay until help reached them from Madras, -might prove fatal to him; while the sea air would -complete his cure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His share of the sale-price of the </span><em class="italics">Tremukji</em><span>, together -with the Gheria prize-money, amounted to more than a -thousand pounds, and this had been invested for him by -his friend.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For myself," added Merriman, "I shall remain. My -wounds are not severe; I am accustomed to the climate; -and though India is now odious to me, I shall not leave -Indian soil until I find traces of my dear wife and daughter. -God grant that by the time you return I shall have some -news of them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond would have liked to remain with the merchant, -but he knew that in his weakness he could have done him -no service, and he acquiesced in the arrangement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>That same evening the fugitives received news that -made their blood run cold. Two Englishmen, Messrs. Cooke -and Lushington, who had remained staunchly by -Mr. Holwell's side, came from the shore in a small boat and -boarded the </span><em class="italics">Dodalay</em><span>. Their appearance struck every one -with amazement and horror. Mr. Cooke was a merchant, -aged thirty-one; Mr. Lushington a writer in the -Company's service, his age eighteen; but the events of one -night had altered them almost beyond recognition. They -said that when the order had been given to confine them in -the barracks, the prisoners had all expected to pass the -night in comparative comfort. What was their amazement -when they were escorted to the Black Hole, a little -chamber no more than eighteen feet square, which was -only used as a rule for the confinement of one or two -unruly prisoners. In vain they protested; their brutal -guards forced them, a hundred and forty-six in number, -into the narrow space, and locked the door upon them. -It was one of the hottest nights of the year; there was but -one small opening in the wall, and before long the want of -air and the intense heat drove the poor people to fury. -They trampled each other down in their mad attempts to -get near the opening for air and the water which one of -their jailers, less brutal than the rest, handed in to them. -The horror of the scenes that passed in that small room -baffles description. In the agonies of thirst and -suffocation the prisoners fought like tigers. Many prayed -their guards to shoot them and end their sufferings, only -to meet with jeers and laughter. Some of the native -officers took pity on them and would have opened the -door; but none durst move without the Nawab's permission, -or brave his fury if they roused him from his sleep. -From seven in the evening till six in the morning the -agony continued, and when at length the order came for -their release, only twenty-three of the hundred and -forty-six tottered forth, the ghastliest wrecks of human beings. -Mr. Holwell and three others were then conveyed as -prisoners in a bullock-cart to Omichand's garden, and -thence to Murshidabad; the rest were bidden to go where -they pleased.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The news was kept from Desmond. It was not till -weeks after that he heard of the terrible tragedy. Then, -with the horror and pity he felt, there was mingled a fear -that Bulger had been among those who perished. The -seaman, he knew, had taken a stout part in the defence of -the Fort; Mr. Merriman had not mentioned him as being -among the prisoners; it was possible that he had escaped; -but the thought that the brave fellow had perhaps died in -that awful hole made Desmond sick at heart.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Though the season was now at its hottest, the fresh -sea air proved a wonderful tonic to him, and he rapidly -regained his strength. The voyage was slow. The -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> beat down the Bay of Bengal against the monsoon -now beginning, and it was nearly two months before she -made Penang. She unloaded there: her cargo was sold -at great profit, she being the only vessel that had for some -time left the Hugli; and Desmond found his capital -increased by nearly a hundred per cent. She then took -on a cargo for Madras, where she arrived in the first -week of September.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond took the earliest opportunity of going on -shore. The roads were studded with Admiral Watson's -fleet, and he learnt that Clive was in the town preparing -an expedition to avenge the wrong suffered by the English -in Calcutta. He hastened to obtain an interview with the -colonel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis no conventional speech when I say I am glad to -see you alive and well, Mr. Burke," said Clive. "Have -you come direct from Calcutta?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir. I left there some ten weeks ago for Penang."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then I have later news of my friend Merriman than -you. Poor fellow! He is distraught at the loss of his -wife and girl. I have received several letters from him. -He spoke of you; told me of what you had done at -Cossimbazar. Gad, sir, you did right well in defending his -goods; and I promise myself if ever I lay hands on that -villain Peloti he shall smart for that piece of rascaldom -and many more. Are you still minded to take service -with me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I should like nothing better, sir, but I doubt whether -I can think of it until I see Mr. Merriman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tut, man, that is unnecessary. 'Twas arranged -between Mr. Merriman and me in Bombay that he would -release you as soon as a vacancy occurred in the -Company's military establishment. There are several such -vacancies now, and I shall be glad to have a Shropshire -man as a lieutenant. I trow you are not averse to taking -a hand in this expedition?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No one who knows what happened in Calcutta can be -that, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is settled, then. I appoint you a cadet in the -Company's service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you indeed, sir," said Desmond, flushing with -pleasure. "I have longed all my life to serve under you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You may find me a hard task-master," said Clive, -setting his lips in the grim way that so many had cause -to fear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"When do we start, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That I can't say. 'Tis not by my wish we have -delayed so long. I will let you know when I require your -services. Meanwhile, make yourself acquainted with the -officers."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond learnt from his new comrades that there was -some disagreement among the Madras Council about the -command of the expedition. Clive had volunteered to -lead it as soon as the news of the fall of Calcutta arrived; -but he was inferior in rank to Colonel Adlercron of the 39th -Regiment, and that officer was a great stickler for military -etiquette. The Council had some reason for anxiety. -They might hear, at any moment, of the outbreak -of war between France and England; and as the -French were strong in Southern India, it required much -moral courage to weaken the force disposable for the -defence of Madras.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>One day, before the matter of the command had been -definitely settled, Desmond received a summons from -Clive. He found the great soldier alone.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have heard of the discussions in the Council, -Mr. Burke," began Clive without ceremony. "I tell you this: -I and no other will command this expedition. In that -confidence I have sent for you. What I have heard of you -speaks well for your readiness and resource, and I think -you could be more useful to me in the Hugli than waiting -here until our respected Council can make up their minds. -The men here are not acquainted with Bengal. You are: -you know the country, from Calcutta to Murshidabad, at -all events, and you speak Hindustani with some fluency. -You can serve me best by picking up any information -you can get regarding the enemy's movements. You are -willing, I take it, to run some risks?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'll do anything you wish, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As I expected. Well, you will go at once to Fulta. -Not to Mr. Drake: I've no confidence in him and the other -old women who are conducting the Company's affairs in -Bengal. Major Killpatrick, an excellent officer, left here -in June with a small reinforcement. He is now at Fulta. -You will join him. I will ask him to give you a free hand -in going and coming and collecting information. You -understand that in a sense you are on secret service. I -want you to keep an eye particularly on the movements of -the French. 'Tis reported that they are in league with -Siraj-uddaula: find out whether that's the case: and gad, -sir, if it is, I'll not be satisfied till I've turned 'em neck and -crop out of Bengal. You'll want money: here are 5,000 -rupees; if you want more, ask Major Killpatrick. Now, -when can you start?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> is sailing in ballast to-morrow, sir. -She'll go light, and aboard her I should get to Fulta as -quickly as on any other vessel."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well. I trust you: much depends on your work; -go on as you have begun and I promise you Robert Clive -won't forget it. Good-bye.--By the way, your duties will -take you through the parts where Mrs. Merriman -disappeared. Your first duty is to me, and through me to your -King and country, remember that. But if you can get any -news of the missing ladies, so much the better. -Mrs. Merriman is a cousin of my wife, and I am deeply -concerned about her fate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next day the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> sailed, and by the middle of -September Desmond had reached Fulta, and reported -himself both to Major Killpatrick and to Mr. Merriman there.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-fourth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the danger of judging by appearance -is notably exemplified.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Sure 'tis a most pleasant engaging young man," said -Mrs. Merriman, as her boat dropped down the river towards -Chandernagore. "Don't you think so, Phyllis?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, mamma, it does seem so. But 'tis too soon to -make up my mind in ten minutes."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, miss! Let me tell you I made up my mind -about your father in five. La, how Merriman will laugh -when he hears 'twas Mr. Burke gave him that scar!--What -is the matter, Munnoo Khan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The boat had stopped with a jerk, and the boatmen were -looking at one another with some anxiety. The serang -explained that ill luck had caused the boat to strike a snag -in the river, and she was taking in water.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You clumsy man! The Sahib will be angry with you. -Make haste, then; row harder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mamma, 'tis impossible!" cried Phyllis in alarm, -"See, the water is coming in fast; we shall be swamped -in a few minutes!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mercy me, 'tis as you say! Munnoo Khan, row to the -nearest ghat: you see it there! Sure 'tis a private ghat, -belonging to the house of one of the French merchants. -He will lend us a boat. 'Twill be vastly annoying if we -do not reach home to-night."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men just succeeded in reaching the ghat, on the left -bank of the river about a mile below Chandernagore, before -the boat sank. When the party had landed, Mrs. Merriman -sent her jamadar up to the house to ask for the loan -of a boat, or for shelter while one was being obtained from -Chandernagore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tell the Sahib 'tis the bibi of an English sahib," she -said. "He will not refuse to do English ladies a service."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The jamadar shortly returned, followed by a tall -dark-featured European in white clothes. He bowed and smiled -pleasantly when he came down to the ghat, and addressed -Mrs. Merriman in French.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am happy to be of service, madam. Alas! I have no -boat at hand, but I will send instantly to Chandernagore -for one. Meanwhile, if you will have the goodness to come -to my house, my wife will be proud to offer you refreshments, -and we will do our best to entertain you until the -boat arrives. Permit me, madam."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He offered his left hand to assist the lady up the steps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I had the mischance to injure my right hand the other -day," he explained. "It is needful to keep it from the air."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was thrust into the pocket of his coat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The Frenchman is vastly polite," said Mrs. Merriman -to her daughter, as they preceded him up the path to the -house. "But there, that is the way with their nation."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hush, mamma!" said Phyllis, "he may understand -English. I do not like his smile," she added in a whisper.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"La, my dear, it means nothing; it comes natural to a -Frenchman. He looks quite genteel, you must confess; -I should not be surprised if he were a somebody in his -own land."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As if in response to the implied question, the man moved -to her side, and, in a manner of great deference, said--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Your jamadar named you to me, madam; I feel that -I ought to explain who I am. My name is Jacques de -Bonnefon--a name, I may say it without boasting, once -even better known at the court of His Majesty King Louis -the Fifteenth than in Chandernagore. Alas, madam! fortune -is a fickle jade. Here I am now, in Bengal, slowly -retrieving by honest commerce a patrimony of which my -lamented father was not too careful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There! What did I say?" whispered Mrs. Merriman -to her daughter as Monsieur de Bonnefon went forward -to meet them on the threshold of his veranda. "A noble -in misfortune! I only hope his wife is presentable."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>They entered the house and were shown into a room -opening on the veranda.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You will pardon my leaving you for a few moments, -mesdames," said their obliging host. "I will bring my -wife to welcome you, and send to Chandernagore for a boat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a bow he left them, closing the door behind him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madame de Bonnefon was taken by surprise, I -suppose," said Mrs. Merriman, "and is making her toilet. -The vanity of these French people, my dear!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Minutes passed. Evening was coming on apace; little -light filtered through the jhilmils. The ladies sat, -wondering why their hostess did not appear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Madame takes a long time, my dear," said Mrs. Merriman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I don't like it, mamma. I wish we hadn't come into -the stranger's house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, my love, what nonsense! The man is not a -savage. The French are not at war with us, and if they -were, they do not war with women. Something has -happened to delay Monsieur de Bonnefon."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't help it, mamma; I don't like his looks; I fear -something, I don't know what. Oh, I wish father were -here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>She got up and walked to and fro restlessly. Then, as -by a sudden impulse, she went quickly to the door and -turned the handle. She gave a low cry under her breath, -and sprang round.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mamma! mamma!" she cried. "I knew it! The -door is locked."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mrs. Merriman rose immediately.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nonsense, my dear! He would not dare do such a thing!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the door did not yield to her hand, though she -pulled and shook it violently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The insolent villain!" she exclaimed. She had plenty -of courage, and if her voice shook, it was with anger, not -fear. She went to the window opening on the veranda, -loosed the bars, and looked out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We can get out here," she said. "We will go -instantly to Chandernagore, and demand assistance from -the Governor."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the next moment she shrank back into the room. -Two armed peons stood in the veranda, one on each side -of the window. Recovering herself Mrs. Merriman went -to the window again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They will not dare to stop us," she said. "Let me -pass, you men; I will not be kept here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the natives did not budge from their post. Only, -as the angry lady flung open one of the folding doors, -they closed together and barred the way with their pikes. -Accustomed to absolute subservience from her own peons, -Mrs. Merriman saw at once that insistence was useless. -If these men did not obey instantly they would not obey -at all.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I cannot fight them," she said, again turning back. -"The wretches! If only your father were here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or Mr. Burke," said Phyllis. "Oh, how I wish he -had come with us!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wishing is no use, my dear. I vow the Frenchman -shall pay dearly for this insolence. We must make the -best of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile Monsieur de Bonnefon had gone down to the -ghat. But he did not send a messenger to Chandernagore -as he had promised. He told the jamadar, in Urdu, that -his mistress and the chota bibi would remain at his house -for the night. They feared another accident if they should -proceed in the darkness. He bade the man bring his -party to the house, where they would all find accommodation -until the morning.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the small hours of that night there was a short sharp -scuffle in the servants' quarters. The Merriman boatmen -and peons were set upon by a score of sturdy men who -promptly roped them together and, hauling them down -to the ghat and into a boat, rowed them up to Hugli.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There they were thrown into the common prison. In -the morning a charge of dacoity[#] was laid against them. -The story was that they had been apprehended in the -act of breaking into the house of Monsieur Sinfray. Plenty -of witnesses were forthcoming to give evidence against -them; such can be purchased outside any cutcherry[#] in -India for a few rupees. The men were convicted. Some -were given a choice between execution and service in the -Nawab's army; others were sentenced off-hand to a term -of imprisonment, and these considered themselves lucky -in escaping with their lives. In vain they protested their -innocence and pleaded that a messenger might be sent to -Calcutta; the Nawab was known to be so much incensed -against the English that the fact of their being Company's -servants availed them nothing.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Gang robbery.</span></p> -<p class="noindent pnext"><span class="small">[#] Court-house.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>About the same time that the men were being -condemned, a two-ox hackeri, such as was used for the -conveyance of pardahnishin[#] women, left the house of -Monsieur de Bonnefon and drove inland for some five miles. -The curtains were closely drawn, and the people who met -it on the road wondered from what zenana the ladies thus -screened from the public gaze had come. The team halted -at a lonely house surrounded by a high wall, once the -residence of a zamindar, now owned by Coja Solomon -of Cossimbazar, and leased to a fellow Armenian of -Chandernagore. It had been hired more than once by Monsieur -Sinfray, the Secretary to the Council at Chandernagore and -a </span><em class="italics">persona grata</em><span> with the Nawab, for </span><em class="italics">al fresco</em><span> entertainments -got up in imitation of the fêtes at Versailles. But -of late Monsieur Sinfray had had too much important -business on hand to spare time for such delights. He was -believed to be with Siraj-uddaula at Murshidabad, and the -house had remained untenanted.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Literally, sitting behind screens.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The hackeri pulled up at the gate in the wall. The -curtains were drawn aside; a group of peons surrounded -the cart to fend off prying eyes; and the passengers -descended--two ladies clad in long white saris[#] and -closely veiled. A sleek Bengali had already got out -from a palanquin which had accompanied the hackeri; in -a second palanquin sat Monsieur de Bonnefon, who did -not take the trouble to alight. With many salaams the -Bengali led the ladies through the gate and across the -compound towards the house. They both walked proudly -erect, with a gait very different from that of the native -ladies who time and again had followed the same path. -They entered the house; the heavy door was shut; and -from behind the screens of the room to which they were -led they heard the hackeri rumbling away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>[#] Garment in one piece, covering the body from head to -foot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Monsieur de Bonnefon, as his palanquin was borne off, -soliloquized, ticking off imaginary accounts on the fingers -of his left hand; the right hand was partly hidden by a -black velvet mitten. His reckoning ran somewhat as -follows--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In account with Edward Merriman--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Credit--to the hounding out of the Company by his -friend Clive: nominal: I made more outside; to scurrilous -abuse in public and private: mere words--say fifty -rupees; to threat to hang me: mere words again--say -fifty rupees. Total credit, say a hundred rupees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Debit--to ransom for wife and daughter: two lakhs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Balance in my favour, say a hundred and ninety-nine -thousand nine hundred rupees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In a few weeks, Mr. Edward Merriman, I shall trouble -you for a settlement."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-fifth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero embarks on a hazardous -mission; and Monsieur Sinfray's -khansaman makes a confession.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>On arriving at Fulta Desmond found that the European -fugitives from Calcutta were living for the most part on -board the country ships in the river, while the military -were cantoned in huts ashore, on a plain eastward of -the town. The avenues leading to their camp were -occupied by sepoys. Desmond lost no time in making his -way to Major Killpatrick's hut and presenting his -credentials.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very glad to make your acquaintance," said the -major heartily. "Oh yes, I know all about you. -Mr. Merriman has told me of the way you brought his cargo -through from Cossimbazar, and the plucky stand you -made against odds. By Jove, sir, 'twas an amazing -good piece of work. You deserved a commission if any -youngster ever did, and I'm glad Mr. Clive has done the -right thing. Let me tell you, Mr. Clive don't make -mistakes--in military matters, that is to say. And Gheria, -now: egad, sir, you must have a head on your shoulders; -and that en't flattery; we soldiers en't in the habit of -laying on the butter. You did well; and sure you'll be -of the greatest use to us here. We need a few men as -are able to keep their heads in a warm place: and, begad, -if they'd had such men in Bengal these last months we -wouldn't be rotting here in this fever-haunted place. -Why, I've lost thirty-two officers and men in less than -a couple of months, and I'll be lucky if I've fifty fit for -service by the time Mr. Clive arrives. When may we -expect him, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He couldn't tell me, sir. The Madras Council can't -make up their minds who is to command the expedition, -and they're waiting for ships from home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Major Killpatrick laughed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, I know how that will end. With Mr. Stringer -Lawrence laid up there is only one man fit to do this -job, and that's Mr. Clive, and the sooner the gentlemen -on their office stools at Madras see that, the better in the -end for everybody. Now you're strong again, eh? Got -rid of that touch of fever?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir; I'm as well as ever."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And want to be doing something, I'll be bound. -Well, 'twill need some thinking, what you're to do. We're -badly served with news. We've got spies, of course; -but I don't set much store by native spies in this country. -We've information by the bushel, but when you come -to sift it out there's precious little of it you can trust. -And the enemy has got spies too--hundreds of 'em. I'll -bet my boots there's a regular system of kasids for -carrying news of us to Manik Chand and from him to the Nawab. -If the truth was known, I daresay that rascal knows -how many hairs I have on my bald crown under my -wig--if that's any interest to him. Well, I suppose -you'll join Mr. Merriman on board one of the ships. Better -chance of escaping the fever there. I'll turn over a thing -or two I have in my mind and send for you when I've -done turning."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the way back to the shore Desmond met the serang -who had accompanied him down the river from Cossimbazar. -The man explained that after the capture of -Calcutta his brother Hubbo, the Company's syr serang,[#] -had been impressed into the service of the Nawab, and -he himself had been sent by Hubbo to Fulta to assist -the Council and merchants of the Company. He had -there met Mr. Merriman, whom in common with many -others he had believed to be dead. Mr. Merriman, having -no immediate need for his services, had willingly -permitted him to take his brother's place in the -employment of the Company.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Head boatman.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Mr. Merriman welcomed Desmond with quite fatherly -affection, and congratulated him heartily on his -appointment. The </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> being unlikely, owing to the -complete cessation of trade, to make another voyage for -some months to come, he decided to take up his quarters -on board, and Desmond lived with him as a matter of -course. Desmond was shocked to see the change wrought -on his friend by the loss of his wife and daughter. All -his gay spirits had left him; he had thinned perceptibly, -and his eyes had that strained look which only a great -sorrow can cause.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I have been thinking it over, Desmond," he said as -they sat in the cabin, "and I can only conclude that -this is one more of Peloti's villainies. Good God! had -he not done me and mine harm enough? Who else -would be so dead to all sense of right, of decency, as to -seize upon two helpless women? My brother was hanged, -Desmond; hanging is too good for that scoundrel; but -we cannot touch him; he laughs at us; and I am -helpless--helpless!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Like you, sir, I have come to believe that you owe -this terrible sorrow to Diggle--I must always call him -that. Don't give up heart, sir. What his motive is, if -he has indeed captured the ladies, I cannot tell. It may -be to use them as hostages in case he gets into trouble -with us; it is impossible to see into the black depths of -his mind. But I believe the ladies are safe, and, please -God, I will learn something about them and maybe bring -them back to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond waited a couple of days in the hope of receiving -a definite task from Major Killpatrick. But that officer, -while an excellent soldier, was not fertile in expedients. -The process of "turning things over in his mind" did -not furnish him with an inspiration. He came on board -the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> one afternoon, and confessed that he -didn't see how Desmond could possibly get up and down -the river. Mr. Merriman reminded him that in the early -days of the stay at Fulta, Mr. Robert Gregory had gone -up with requests to the French and Dutch for assistance. -Under cover of a storm he passed Tanna and Calcutta -unnoticed by the Nawab's men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The French were very polite, but wouldn't move a -finger for us," added Mr. Merriman. "The Dutch were -more neighbourly, and sent us some provisions--badly -needed, I assure you. Mr. Gregory is still with them at -Chinsura."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If he got through, why shouldn't I?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear boy," said Killpatrick, "the river is narrowly -watched. The Moors know that Gregory outwitted them; -sure no other Englishman could repeat the trick. And -if you were caught, there's no saying how Manik Chand -might serve you. He seems disposed to be friendly, to -be sure: he's made governor of Calcutta now, and wants -to feel his feet. But he's a weak man, by all accounts; -and weak men, when they are afraid, are always cruel. -If he caught an Englishman spying out the land he'd most -probably treat him after Oriental methods. In fact, the -situation between him and us is such," concluded the -major with a laugh, "that he'd be quite justified in -stringing you up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Major Killpatrick left without offering any suggestion. -When he had gone Desmond spent an hour or two in -"turning things over in his mind." He felt that the -major was well disposed and would probably jump at any -reasonable scheme that was put before him. After a -period of quiet reflection he sought out Hossain the serang -and had a long talk with him. At the conclusion of the -interview he went to see Mr. Merriman. He explained -that Hossain wished to return to the service of a former -employer, a native grain merchant in Calcutta, who did -a large trade along the Hugli from the Sanderbands to -Murshidabad. The consent of the Council was required, -and Desmond wished Mr. Merriman to arrange the matter -without giving any explanation. The merchant was -naturally anxious to know why Desmond interested -himself in the man, and what he learnt drew from him an -instant promise to obtain the Council's consent without -delay. Then Desmond made his way to Major Killpatrick's -hut, and remained closeted with that genial officer till a -late hour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Six weeks later a heavily laden petala, with a dinghy -trailing behind, was dropping down the river above Hugli. -Its crew numbered four. One was Hossain the serang, -who had left Fulta with Desmond on the day after his -interview with Major Killpatrick. Two were dark-skinned -boatmen, Bengalis somewhat stupid in appearance. The -fourth, who was steering, was rather lighter in hue, -as well as more alert and energetic in mien: a lascar, as -Hossain explained in answer to inquiries along the river. -He had lately been employed on one of the Company's -vessels, but it had been sunk in the Hugli during the -siege of Calcutta. He was a handy man in a boat, and -very glad to earn a few pice in this time of stagnant trade. -Things were not looking bright for boatmen on the Hugli; -as only a few vessels had left the river from Chandernagore -and Chinsura since the troubles began, there was -little or no opening for men of the shipwrecked crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The petala made fast for the night near the bank, at -a spot a little below Hugli, between that place and -Chinsura. When the two Bengalis had eaten their evening -rice, Hossain told them that they might, if they pleased, -take the dinghy and attend a tamasha[#] that was being held -in Chinsura that night in honour of the wedding of one of -the Dutch Company's principal gumashtas. The Bengalis, -always ready for an entertainment of this kind, slipped -overboard and were soon rowing down to Chinsura. Their -orders were to be back immediately after the second -watch of the night. Only the lascar and Hossain were -left in the boat.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Entertainment.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Ten minutes after the men had disappeared from view, -the serang lit a small oil-lamp in the tiny cabin. He then -made his way to the helm, whispered a word in the lascar's -ear, and took his place. The latter nodded and went -into the cabin. Drawing the curtains, he squatted on -a mattress, took from a hiding-place in the cabin a few -sheets of paper and a pencil, and, resting the paper on -the back of a tray, began to write. As he did so he -frequently consulted a scrap of paper he kept at his left -hand; it was closely covered with letters and figures, -these latter not Hindustani characters, but the Arabic -figures employed by Europeans. The first line of what -he wrote himself ran thus--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>29 19 28 19 36 38 32 20 31 39 23 34 19 29 29 35 32 38 24 38 23 32</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Constructed from the cipher used by Mr. Watts at Murshidabad. -[Transcriber's note: there was no footnote reference in the source -book for this footnote.]</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The letter or message upon which he was engaged was -not a lengthy one, but it took a long time to compose. -When it was finished the lascar went over it line by line, -comparing it with the paper at his left hand. Then he -folded it very small, sealed it with a wafer, and, returning -to the serang, said a few words. Hossain made a -trumpet of his hands, and, looking towards the left bank, -sounded a few notes in imitation of a bird's warble. -The shore was fringed here with low bushes. As if in -answer to the call a small boat darted out from the -shelter of a bush; a few strokes brought it alongside of the -petala; and the serang, bending over, handed the folded -paper to the boatman, and whispered a few words in his -ear. The man pushed off, and the lascar watched the boat -float silently down the stream until it was lost to sight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dawn was hardly breaking when Major Killpatrick, -awakened by his servant, received from his hands a folded -paper which by the aid of a candle he began to pore over, -laboriously comparing it with a small code similar to that -used by the lascar. One by one he pencilled on a scrap -of paper certain letters, every now and then whistling -between his teeth as he spelt out the words they made. -The result appeared thus--</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="small">Magazines for ammunition and stores of grain being prepared -Tribeni and Hugli. Bazar rumour Nawab about to march with -army to Calcutta. Orders issued Hugli traffic to be strictly -watched. Dutch phataks[#] closed. Forth unable leave Chinsura. -Tanna Fort 9 guns; opposite Tanna 6 guns; Holwell's garden 5 -guns; 4 each Surman's and Ganj; 2 each Mr. Watts' house, Seth's -ghat, Maryas ghat, carpenter's yard.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Gate or barrier.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Egad!" he exclaimed, on a second reading of the -message, "the boy's a conjurer. This is important enough -to send to Mr. Clive at once. But I'll make a copy of -it first in case of accident."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Having made his copy and sealed the original and his -first transcription, he summoned his servant and bade him -send for the kasid. To him he entrusted the papers, -directing him to convey them without loss of time to Clive -Sahib, whom he might expect to find at Kalpi.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was December 13. Two months before, the fleet -containing Colonel Clive and the troops destined for the -Bengal expedition had sailed from Madras. The force -consisted of 276 King's troops, 676 of the Company's, -about a thousand sepoys, and 260 lascars. They were -embarked on five of the King's ships, with Admiral Watson -in the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, and as many Company's vessels. Baffling -winds, various mishaps, and the calms usual at this -time of the year had protracted the voyage, so seriously -that the men had to be put on a two-thirds allowance of -rations. Many of the European soldiers were down with -scurvy, many of the sepoys actually died of starvation, -having consumed all their rice, and refusing to touch -the meat provided for the British soldiers, for fear of -losing caste. When the Admiral at length arrived at -Fulta, he had only six of the ten ships with which he -started, two that had parted company arriving some ten -days later, and two being forced to put back to Madras, -under stress of weather.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> lay at Kalpi, Clive received the message -sent him by Major Killpatrick, and was visited by -Mr. Drake and other members of the Council, from whom he -heard of the sickness among the troops. On arriving -at Fulta he at once went on shore and visited the Major.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Sorry to hear of your sad case, Mr. Killpatrick," he -said. "We're very little better off. But we must make -the best of it. I got your note. 'Twas an excellent -greeting. Young Burke is a capital fellow; I have not -mistook his capacity."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Faith, 'twas what I told him, sir. I said Colonel -Clive never mistook his men."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, if that's true, what you said won't make him -vain. This information is valuable: you see that. Have -you heard anything more from the lad?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nothing, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you can't communicate with him?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, 'twas his scheme only to send messages; to -receive them would double the risk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So: 'twas his scheme, not yours?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Egad, sir, I've no head for that sort of thing," said -Killpatrick with a laugh. "Give me a company, and a -wall to scale or a regiment to charge, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"My dear fellow," interrupted Clive, "we all know -the King has no better officer. Credit where credit is due, -major, and you're not the man to grudge this youngster -his full credit for an uncommonly daring and clever scheme. -Did you see him in his disguise?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I did, sir, and at a distance he took in both Mr. Merriman -and myself."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, he's a boy to keep an eye on, and I only hope -that tigers or dacoits or the Nawab's Moors won't get -hold of him; he's the kind of lad we can't spare. Now, -let me know the state of your troops."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>When he had sent off his note to Major Killpatrick, -Desmond enjoyed a short spell on deck preparatory to -turning in. Hossain was placidly smoking his hubble-bubble; -from the far bank of the Hugli came the mingled sounds -of tom-toms and other instruments; near the boat all was -quiet, the wavelets of the stream lapping idly against the -sides, the stillness broken only by the occasional howl of -a jackal prowling near the bank in quest of the corpses -of pious Hindus consigned to the sacred waters of the -Ganges.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was half dozing when he was startled into -wakefulness by a sudden clamour from the native town. -He heard shots, loud cries, the hideous blare of the Bengal -trumpets. For half an hour the shouts continued -intermittently; then they gradually died away. Wondering -whether the tamasha had ended in a tumult, Desmond -was about to seek his couch when, just beneath him, as -it seemed, he heard a voice--a feeble cry for help. He -sprang up and looked over the side. Soon a dark head -appeared on the water. With a cry to the serang to cast -loose and row after him, Desmond took a header into -the stream, and in a few strokes gained the drowning -man's side. He was clearly exhausted. Supporting him -with one arm, Desmond struck out with the other, and -being a strong swimmer he reached the stern of the boat -even before the serang had slipped his moorings. With -Hossain's aid he lifted the man into the boat, and carried -him to the cabin. He was all but unconscious. A mouthful -of arrack[#] from the serang's jar revived him. No sooner -was he in command of his breath than he implored his -rescuers for their help and protection. He had escaped, -he said, from Hugli Fort, not without a gun-shot wound -behind his shoulder. He spoke in Bengali. Seeing that -he was too much exhausted and agitated to tell his story -that night, Desmond bade the serang assure him of his -safety. Then they made shift to tend his wound, and, -comforting him with food and drink, left him to sleep and -recover.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A fermented liquor made from rice or the juice of the -palm.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The two Bengalis who had been to Chinsura returned -before they were expected. They had been alarmed by -the uproar. As soon as they were aboard Desmond -decided to drop a mile or two farther down the river. The -boat coming to a ghat below Chandernagore, the serang -ordered the men to pull in, and tied up for the rest of the -night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the morning the Bengalis were despatched on some -errand along the bank, and the coast being clear Desmond -went with the serang to the wounded man to learn -particulars of his escape. The Bengali had now almost -wholly recovered, and was very voluble in his gratitude -for his rescue. While he was speaking the boat slightly -shifted her position, and the Bengali suddenly caught sight, -through the matting, of a large house beyond the ghat. -He uttered an exclamation of fear, and begged the -serang with frantic waving of the hands to leave the -spot at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why, O brother, this fear?" asked Hossain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will tell you. It is a great fear. Just before the -coming of the rains I was at Khulna. There I was hired -by the head serang of a lady travelling to Calcutta. She -was the wife of a burra sahib of the great Company, and -with her was her daughter. All went well until we came -near Chandernagore; we struck a snag; the boat sprang a -leak; we feared the bibis would be drowned. We rowed -to this very ghat; a sahib welcomed the ladies; they went -into his house yonder. Presently he sent for us; we -lodged with his servants; but in the night we were set -upon, bound, and carried to Hugli. False witnesses -accused us of being dacoits; we were condemned; and I -was confined with others in the prison.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Always since then have I looked for a chance of -escape. It came at last. Some of the jailers went last -night to the tamasha at Chinsura. I stole out and got -away. A sentry fired upon me, and hit me; but I am a -good swimmer and I plunged into the river. You know -all that happened then, O serang, and I beseech you leave -this place; it is a dreadful place; some harm will come to -us all."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond's knowledge of Bengali was as yet slight, and -he caught only portions of the man's narrative. But he -understood enough to convince him that he was at last on -the track of the missing ladies; and when, shortly -afterwards, Hossain gave him in Urdu the whole of the story, -he determined at once to act on the information. On the -return of the two Bengalis, he arranged with the serang -to set them at work on some imaginary repairs to the -boat: that pretext for delay was as good as another. -Then, Hossain having reassured the fugitive, he himself -landed and made his way up to the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was closed. There was no sign of its being inhabited. -But about a hundred yards from the gate Desmond saw -a basti, and from one of the huts smoke was issuing. -He sauntered up. Before the door, lolling in unstudied -deshabille, squatted a bearded Mohammedan, whom from -his rotundity Desmond guessed to be the khansaman of -the big house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Salaam aleikam,[#] khansaman!" said Desmond suavely. -"Pardon the curiosity of an ignorant sailor from Gujarat. -What nawab owns the great house yonder?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Peace be with you!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The khansaman, beaming in acknowledgment of the -implied compliment to his own importance, replied:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"To Sinfray Sahib, worthy khalasi."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The great Sinfray Sahib of Chandernagore? Surely -that is a strange thing!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Strange! What is strange? That Sinfray Sahib -should own so fine a house? You should see his other -house in Chandernagore: then indeed you might lift your -eyes in wonder."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, indeed, I marvelled not at that, for Sinfray Sahib -is indeed a great man. We who dwell upon the kala pani -know well his name. Is it not known in the bazars in -Pondicherry and Surat? But I marvel at this, khansaman: -that on one day, this day of my speaking to you, I should -meet the sahib's most trusty servant, as I doubt not you -are, and also the man who has sworn revenge upon the -owner of this house--ay, and on all the household."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bismillah!"[#] exclaimed the khansaman, spitting out -his supari. He was thoroughly interested, but as yet -unconcerned. "What do you mean, khalasi?"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] "In the name of Allah!"--a common exclamation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I parted but now, on the river, from a fellow-boatman -who of late has lain in prison at Hugli, put there, they say, -by order of Sinfray Sahib. He is not a dacoit; no man -less so; but false witnesses rose up against him. And, -I bethink me, he said that the sahib's khansaman was one -of these men with lying lips. Surely he was in error; for -your face, O khansaman, is open as the sun, your lips are -fragrant with the very attar of truth. But he is filled with -rage and fury; in his madness he will not tarry to inquire. -If he should meet you--well, it is the will of Allah: no -man can escape his fate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The khansaman, as Desmond spoke, looked more and -more distressed; and at the last words his face was livid.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not true," he said. "But I know the blind fury -of revenge. Do thou entreat him for me. I will pay thee -well. I have saved a few pice.[#] It will be worth five -rupees to thee; and to make amends to the madman, I -will give him fifty rupees, even if it strips me of all I -have. Allah knows it was not my doing; it was forced -upon me."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Coin, value one-eighth of a penny.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"How could that be, khansaman?" said Desmond, -letting pass the man's contradictory statements.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is not necessary to explain; my word is my word."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No doubt; but so enraged is the khalasi I speak of -that unless I can explain to him fully he will not heed me. -Never shall I dissuade him from his purpose."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the will of Allah!" said the khansaman resignedly. -"I will tell you. It was not Sinfray Sahib at all. He was -at the Nawab's court at Murshidabad. He had lent his -house to a friend while he was absent. The friend had a -spite against Merriman Sahib, the merchant at Calcutta; -and when the bibi and the chota bibi came down the river -he seized them. Sinfray Sahib believes there was an attack -by dacoits; but the bibi's peons were carried away by the -sahib's friend: it was he that brought the evidence against -them. The Angrezi sahib induced me to swear falsely by -avouching that Sinfray Sahib was also an enemy of -Merriman Sahib; but when the judge had said his word the -sahib bade me keep silence with my master, for he was -ignorant of it all. The Angrezi sahib is a terrible man: -what could I do? I was afraid to speak."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what was the name of the Angrezi sahib?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"His name?--It was Higli--no, Digli Sahib--accursed -be the day I first saw him!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond drew a long breath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And what became of the bibi and the chota bibi?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"They were taken away."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Whither?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I do not know."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The answer was glib; Desmond thought a little too glib.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why then, khansaman," he said, "I fear it would be -vain for me to reason with the man I spoke of. He has -eaten the salt of Merriman Sahib; his lord's injury is his -also. But you acted for the best. Allah hafiz! that will -be a morsel of comfort even if this man's knife should find -its way between your ribs. Not every dying man has such -consolation. Live in peace, good khansaman."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond, who had been squatting in the Oriental -manner--an accomplishment he had learnt with some -pains at Gheria--rose to leave. The khansaman's florid -cheeks again put on a sickly hue, and when the seeming -lascar had gone a few paces he called him back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ahi, excellent khalasi! I think--I remember--I am -almost sure I can discover where the two bibis are -concealed."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Inshallah![#] That is indeed fortunate," said Desmond, -turning back. "There lies the best chance of averting the -wrath of this much-wronged man."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] "Please God!"--a common exclamation.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Wait but a little till I have clad myself duly; I will -then go to a friend yonder and inquire."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went into his hut and soon returned clothed in the -garments that befitted his position. Walking to a hut at -the end of the block, he made pretence, Desmond -suspected, of inquiring. He was soon back.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Allah is good!" he said. "The khitmatgar yonder -tells me they were taken to a house three coss[#] distant, -belonging to the great faujdar Manik Chand. It is rented -from him by Digli Sahib, who is a great friend of his -excellency."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] The coss is nearly two miles.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Well, khansaman, you will show me the way to the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the khansaman appeared to have donned, with his -clothes, a sense of his own importance. The authoritative -tone of the lascar offended his dignity.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Who are you, scum of the sea, that you tell a -khansaman of Bengal what he shall do? Hold your tongue, -piece of seaweed, or by the beard of the Prophet----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The threat was never completed, for Desmond, stepping -up close to the man, caught him by the back of the neck -and shook him till his teeth rattled in his head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quick! Lead the way! Foolish khansaman, do you -want your fat body shaken to a jelly? That is the way -with us khalasis from Gujarat. Quick, I say!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hold, khalasi!" panted the khansaman; "I will do -what you wish. Believe me, you are the first khalasi from -Gujarat I have seen----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Or you would not have delayed so long. Quick, man!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>With a downcast air the man set off. The sun was -getting high; being fat and soft, the khansaman was soon -in distress. But Desmond allowed him no respite. In -about two hours they arrived at the house he had -mentioned. The gate was ajar; the door broken open. Hastily -entering, Desmond knew instinctively by the appearance of -the place that it was deserted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He went through the house from bottom to top. Not a -living person was to be seen. But in one of the rooms his -quick eye caught sight of a small hair-pin such as only a -European woman would use. He picked it up. In another -room a cooking-pot had been left, and it was evident that -it had but lately been used. The simple furniture was in -some disorder.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The khansaman had with much labour managed to -mount the stairs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Inshallah!" he said. "They are gone!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-sixth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which presence of mind is shown to be -next best to absence of body.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The khansaman's surprise was clearly genuine, and -Desmond refrained from visiting on him his disappointment. -Bitter as that was, his alarm was still more keen. What -had become of the ladies! With all his old impulsiveness -he had come to rescue them, never pausing to think of what -risks he might himself run. And now they were gone! -Could Diggle have suspected that his carefully hidden -tracks were being followed up, and have removed his -prisoners to some spot remoter from the river? It was idle -to speculate; they were gone; and there was no obvious -clue to their whereabouts.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The khansaman, limp and damp after his unwonted -exercise, had squatted on the floor and was fanning himself, -groaning deeply. Desmond went to the window of the -room and looked out over the country, wondering, -longing, fearing. As he gazed disconsolately before him, he -caught sight of a party of horsemen rapidly approaching. -Bidding the khansaman stifle his groans, he watched them -eagerly through the chiks of the window. Soon a dozen -native horsemen cantered up to the front gate and drew -rein. One of them, clad in turban of gold tissue, short blue -jacket lavishly decorated with gold, and crimson trousers, -bade the rest dismount. He was a tall man, a handsome -figure in his fine array. He wore a sword with hilt inlaid -with gold, the scabbard covered with crimson velvet; and -in his girdle was stuck a knife with agate handle, and a -small Moorish dagger ornamented with gold and silver.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He stood for a time gazing as in perplexity at the broken -gateway. His face was concealed by his turban from -Desmond, looking from above. But when he directed his -glance upward, Desmond, peering through the chiks, -could scarcely believe his eyes. The features were those -of Marmaduke Diggle. His heart thumped against his -ribs. Never, perhaps, in the whole course of his -adventures, had he been in such deadly peril. The appearance -of the party had been so sudden, and he had been so deeply -engrossed with his musings, that he had not had time to -think of his own situation.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come, son of a pig," said Diggle at length, throwing -himself from his horse and beckoning to his syce, "we will -search the place. There must be something to show who -the dacoits were."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He strode into the compound, followed by his trembling -servant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed, huzur," said the man in shrill tones of excuse, -"we did our best. But they were many: our livers were -as water."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Chup[#], pig! Wait till you are spoken to," exclaimed -Diggle, turning angrily upon him.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Shut up.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Achchha, sahib! bahut achchha, sahib![#]----"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Good, sahib--very good, sahib.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A vicious kick cut short his protestations, and the two -passed out of hearing of the two watchers above, the -khansaman having brought his quivering flabbiness to -Desmond's side. Diggle passed into the entrance-hall, the -native horsemen waiting like statues at the gate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is the sahib!" whispered the shaking khansaman to -Desmond: "Digli Sahib. He will kill me. He is a -tiger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Silence, fool!" said Desmond sternly: "there must be -a way out. Jaldi jao![#] we shall be too late."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Go quickly.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The man seemed glued to the spot with fear. The -footsteps of Diggle could be heard in the rooms below. In a -few minutes he would reach the upper story; then it would -indeed be too late to flee. If they could gain the back -staircase they might slip down and hide in the garden. -But fright appeared to have bereft the khansaman of all -power of movement. Yet Desmond, for more than one -reason, was unwilling to leave him. He knew what -Diggle's tender mercies were; but he also knew that the -khansaman, if discovered, would certainly try to purchase -his safety by betraying his companion. So, without more -ado, seizing him by the neck, Desmond shook him vigorously.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come!" he said in a fierce whisper, "or I will leave -you to face the sahib alone."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This summary treatment shocked the man from his -stupor. Stepping on tiptoe he darted across the room, -through the door communicating with a room beyond, -into a narrow passage-way at the rear of the house. Here -was a second staircase leading downwards to the servants' -quarters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wait there," said Desmond when they were half-way -down. "If you hear any one coming up, rejoin me above."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He himself crept noiselessly back to the upper floor. No -sooner had he reached the top than he heard Diggle -moving in the room he had recently left. He darted to a -khaskhas[#] curtain, through the meshes of which he could -see into the two intercommunicating rooms. Diggle was -carefully searching the apartment; he clearly knew it was -the one lately occupied by the ladies.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A fragrant grass whose roots are used for making screens.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>As he stooped to pick up a cushion that lay on the floor -beside a divan, his eye was caught by a scrap of crumpled -paper. He snatched at it like a hawk and with quick -fingers straightened it out--the fingers of the mittened -hand that Desmond knew so well. On the paper was -writing; the characters were English, but Diggle appeared -to have some difficulty in making them out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Your servant Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti,'" he said -slowly aloud. "Who is Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti?" -he asked his man, standing behind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Truly, huzur, I know not. It is a common name in -Bengal--a vile Hindu; an unbeliever----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did this paper come here?" cried Diggle impatiently.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How should I know, sahib? I am a poor man, an -ignorant man; I do not read----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come with me and search the back of the house," said -Diggle, turning away with an oath.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond stepped noiselessly across the floor and joined -the khansaman. They made their way out stealthily down -the stairs, through the garden at the back, into a mango -grove. There they remained hidden until Diggle, finding -his search fruitless, remounted with his men and galloped -away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt in a maze of bewilderment. It was clear -that Diggle was ignorant of the whereabouts of the ladies; -where had they been spirited to, and by whom? Apparently -there had been an attack on the house, and they -had been carried away: was it by friends or foes? What -was the meaning of the paper found by Diggle? Had the -Babu had any hand in the latest disappearance, or was it -his letter that had put some one else on their track? -Desmond had heard nothing of Surendra Nath or his father -since the sack of Calcutta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was no clue to the solution of the problem. -Meanwhile it was necessary to get back to Calcutta. The -journey had been delayed too long already, and Hossain's -employer the grain merchant would have good reason -for complaint if he felt that his business was being -neglected.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must go, khansaman," said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man was nothing loth. They returned by the way -they had come. Desmond left the man some distance -short of Sinfray's house, promising, in return for his -assistance, to use his best offices with the irate manjhi[#] on his -behalf. Then he struck off for the point lower down the -river where his boat was moored. As soon as he arrived -they got under way, and late that evening reached Tanna -Fort, where they had to deliver their cargo of rice for the -use of the Nawab's garrison.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Steersman.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>In the dead of night they were surprised by a visit from -Hubbo, the serang's brother. He had seen them, as they -passed, from one of the sloops that lay in the river opposite -to the fort. Though in chief command of the Nawab's -boats at that point, he was still secretly loyal to the -Company, and was anxious to serve their interests to -the best of his power. He had now brought important -news. The three sloops and two brigantines that lay off -the fort were, he said, filled with earth. On the approach -of Admiral Watson's fleet they were to be scuttled and -sunk in the fairway. A subahdar[#] of Manik Chand's force -was at present on board one of the sloops to superintend -the work of scuttling. The signal would be given by the -subahdar himself from his sloop.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Equivalent to captain of infantry.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"Very well, Hubbo," said Desmond, "that signal must -not be given."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how prevent it, sahib? I wish well to the -Company; have I not eaten their salt? But what can one man -do against many? The subahdar is a very fierce man; very -zabburdasti.[#] When he gives the word it will be death to -disobey."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Masterful.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond sat for some time with his chin on his hands, -thinking. Then he asked:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you know where the British fleet is at present?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sahib. I was in the bazar to-day; it was said -that this morning the ships were still at Fulta. The -sepoys are recovering from their privations during the -voyage."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We will drop down the river to-morrow as soon as -we have unloaded our cargo. You may expect us back -ahead of the fleet, so keep a good look-out for us. I will -take care that Mr. Drake is informed of your fidelity, and -you will certainly be well rewarded."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Early in the morning the cargo was unloaded; then, -under pretence of taking in goods at Mayapur, the petala -dropped down the river and gained Fulta under cover -of night.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning Desmond, having resumed his ordinary -attire, sought an interview with Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The very man I wished to see," said Clive, shaking -hands. "Your scouting is the one ray of light in the -darkness that covers the enemy's arrangements. You have -done remarkably well, and I take it you would not be -here unless you had something to tell me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond gave briefly the information he had learnt -from Hubbo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That's the game, is it?" said Clive. "A pretty -scheme, egad! 'Twill be fatal to us if carried out. -'Twould put a spoke in the admiral's wheel and throw all -the work on the land force. That's weak enough, what -with Mr. Killpatrick's men dying off every day--he has -only thirty left--and my own sepoys mostly skeletons. -And we haven't proved ourselves against the Nawab's -troops; I suppose they outnumber us thirty to one, and -after their success at Calcutta they'll be very cock-a-hoop. -Yet 'tis so easy to sink a few ships, especially if preparations -have been made long in advance, as appears to be -the case."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think sir, it might be prevented."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive, who had been pacing up and down in some -perturbation of mind, his head bent, his hands clasped behind -him, halted, looked up sharply, and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed! How?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If we could get hold of the subahdar."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By bribing him? He might not be open to bribery. -Most of these native officials are, but there are some -honest men among them, and he may be one. He -wouldn't have been selected for his job unless Manik -Chand thought him trustworthy. Besides, how are we -going to get into communication with him? And even -if we did, and filled him to the brim with rupees, how are -we to know he wouldn't sell us in turn to the enemy?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But there are other ways, sir. We can depend on -Hubbo, and if I might suggest, it would pay to promise -him a rich reward if he managed to keep the passage -clear."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, I agree. What reward would be most effective?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A few hundred rupees and the post of syr serang in -the Company's service when Calcutta is retaken."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not too extravagant! Well, I will see Mr. Drake; -the offer had better come from him and reach Hubbo -through his brother."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And then, sir, it ought not to be impossible to secure -the subahdar himself when the moment arrives."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive looked at the bright eager countenance of the boy -before him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Upon my word, my lad," he said, "I believe you -can do it. How, I don't know; but you have shown so -much resource already that you may be able to help us -in this fix--for fix it is, and a bad one. 'Tis the will that -counts; if one is only determined enough no difficulty is -insuperable--a lesson that our friends from Calcutta might -take to heart. But have you a plan?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Not at present, sir. I should like to think it over; -and if I can hit on anything that seems feasible I should -be glad of your leave to try."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By all means, my lad. If you fail--well, no one will -be more sorry than I, for your sake. If you succeed, you -will find that I shall not forget. There's one thing I want -to ask you before you go. Have you heard anything of -my friend Merriman's ladies?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir: and, as I suspected, Diggle is at the bottom -of their disappearance."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He related the series of incidents up the river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dressed like a native, was he? And looked like a -risaldar?[#] There's no end to that fellow's villainy. But -his day of reckoning will come I am sure of it, and the -world will be none the worse for the loss of so vile a -creature. If you take my advice, you'll say nothing to -Mr. Merriman of this discovery. 'Twould only unsettle -the poor man. He had better know nothing until we can -either restore the ladies to him or tell him that there is no -hope."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Officer commanding a troop of horse.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"I don't give up hope, sir. They're alive, at any rate; -and Diggle has lost them. I feel sure we shall find them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God grant it, my lad."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-seventh"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which an officer of the Nawab disappears; -and Bulger reappears.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"This will be my last trip, sahib, for my present master. -He says I waste too much time on the river. He also -complains that I go to places without leave and without reason. -He heard we were at Mayapur, and wanted to know -why. I made excuses, sahib; I said whatever came into -my head; but he was not satisfied, and I leave his service -in a week."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is a pity, Hossain. Unless we are in the service -of some well-known banya we cannot go up and down the -river without exciting suspicion. However, let us hope -that before the week is out the fleet will be here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond looked a little anxious. The success of his -project for preventing the fouling of the passage at Tanna -Fort was more than eyer doubtful. The petala was -moored opposite the Crane ghat at Calcutta, taking in a -cargo of jawar[#] for Chandernagore. The work of loading -had been protracted to the utmost by the serang; for -Desmond did not wish to leave the neighbourhood of -Calcutta at the present juncture, when everything turned -upon their being on the spot at the critical moment.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Millet.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>While they were talking, a man who had every appearance -of a respectable banya approached the plank over -which the coolies were carrying the jawar on board. He -stood idly watching the work, then moved away, and -squatted on a low pile of bags which had been emptied -of their contents. For a time the serang paid no apparent -heed to him; but presently, while the coolies were still -busy, he sauntered across the plank, and strolling to the -onlooker, exchanged a salaam and squatted beside him. -Passers-by might have caught a word or two about the -grain-market; the high prices; the difficulties of transit; -the deplorable slackness of trade; the infamous duplicity -of the Greek merchants. At last the banya rose, salaamed, -and walked away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he did so the serang carelessly lifted the bag upon -which the banya had been sitting, and, making sure that -he was not observed, picked up a tiny ball of paper -scarcely bigger than a pea. Waiting a few moments, he -rose and sauntered back on board. A minute or two later -the lascar in the after part of the boat was unobtrusively -examining the scrap of paper. It contained three words -and an initial:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><em class="italics">To-morrow about ten.--C.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A change had been made in the composition of Hossain's -crew since the incident at Sinfray's house. One day -Desmond had found one of the Bengalis rummaging in -the corner of the cabin where he was accustomed to keep -his few personal belongings. Hossain had dismissed the -man on the spot. The man saved from the river had been -kept on the boat and proved a good worker, eager, and -willing to be of use. He was an excellent boatman, a -handy man generally, and, for a Bengali, possessed of -exceptional physical strength. At Desmond's suggestion -Hossain offered him the vacant place, and he at once -accepted it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Since his rescue he had shown much gratitude to -Desmond. He was quick-witted, and had not been long -on board before he felt that the khalasi was not quite what -he appeared to be. His suspicion was strengthened by the -deference, slight but unmistakable, paid by the serang to -the lascar; for though Desmond had warned Hossain to -be on his guard, the man had been unable to preserve -thoroughly the attitude of a superior to an inferior.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On receiving the short message from Clive, Desmond -had a consultation with Hossain. The coolies had finished -their work and received their pay, and there was nothing -unusual in the sight of the boatmen squatting on deck -before loosing their craft from its moorings.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If we are to do what we wish to do, Hossain," said -Desmond, "we shall require a third man to help us. Shall -we take Karim into our confidence?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is as you please, sahib. He is a good man, and -will, I think, be faithful."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, send the other fellow on shore; I will speak to -the man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The serang gave the second of the two Bengalis who -had formed his original crew an errand on shore. -Desmond beckoned up the new man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are you willing to undertake a service of risk, for a -big reward, Karim?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It will be worth a hundred rupees to you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Karim's eyes sparkled; a hundred rupees represented a -fortune to a man of his class; but he still hesitated.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Am I to be alone?" he asked at length.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No," said Desmond; "we shall be with you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ji! Han! If the sahib"--the word slipped out -unawares--"is to be there it is fixed. He is my father and -mother: did he not save me from the river? I would -serve him without reward."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is very well. All the same the reward shall be -yours--to be paid to you if we succeed, to your family if -we fail. For if we fail it will be our last day: they will -certainly shoot us. There is time to draw back."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If the sahib is to be there I am not afraid."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good. You can go aft. We will tell you later what -is to be done. And, remember, on this boat I am no sahib. -I am a khalasi from Gujarat."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will remember--sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond told the serang that the help of the man was -assured, and discussed with him the enterprise upon which -he was bent. He had given his word to Clive that the -blocking of the river should be prevented, and though the -task bade fair to be difficult he was resolved not to fail. -The vessels that were to be sunk in the fairway were -moored opposite the fort at a distance of about a ship's -length from one another. The subahdar was on the sloop -farthest down the river, Hubbo on the next. With the -subahdar there were three men. The signal for the -scuttling of the vessels was to be the waving of a green flag -by the subahdar; this was to be repeated by Hubbo, then -by the serang on the sloop above him, and so on to the -end. The vessels were in echelon, the one highest up the -river lying well over to the left bank and nearest to the -fort, the rest studding the fairway so that if they sank at -their moorings it would be impossible for a ship of any -size to thread its way between them. It did not appear -that anything had been done to ensure their sinking -broadside to the current, the reason being probably that, -whatever might be attempted with this design, the river would -have its will with the vessels as soon as they sank.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Our only chance," said Desmond, "is to get hold of -the subahdar. If we can only capture him the rest should -be easy--especially as Hubbo is on the next sloop, which -screens the subahdar's from the rest. It is out of -speaking distance from the fort, too--another piece of luck for -us. I will think things over in the night, Hossain; be -sure to wake me, if I am not awake, at least a gharri[#] -before dawn."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] A 60th part of a day: </span><em class="italics small">i.e.</em><span class="small"> 24 minutes.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was the first of January, 1757. At half-past seven in -the morning a heavily-laden petala was making its way -slowly against the tide down the Hugli. Four men were -on board; two were rowing, one was at the helm, the -fourth stood looking intently before him. The boat had -passed several vessels lying opposite Tanna Fort, at -various distances from the bank, and came abreast of the -last but one. There the rowers ceased pulling at an order -from the man standing, who put his hand to his mouth -and hailed the sloop. An answer came from a man on -deck inviting the caller to come on board. With a few -strokes of the oars the petala was run alongside, and -Hossain joined his brother.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is it well, brother?" he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is well," replied Hubbo.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond at the helm of the petala looked eagerly ahead -at the last sloop of the line. He could see the subahdar -on deck, a somewhat portly figure in resplendent costume. -A small dinghy was passing between his vessel and the -shore. It contained a number of servants, who had -brought him his breakfast from the fort. The crews of -the other vessels had prepared their food on board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After a time a dinghy was let down from Hubbo's sloop. -Hubbo himself stepped into it with one of his crew, and -was rowed to the subahdar's vessel. Desmond, watching -him narrowly, saw him salaam deeply as he went on -board.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Salaam, huzur!" said Hubbo. "Your excellency will -pardon me, but bismillah! I have just discovered a matter -of importance. Our task, huzur, has lain much on my -mind; we have never done anything of the sort before, -and seeing on yonder petala a man I know well, who has -spent many years on the kala pani, I ventured to ask if he -knew what time would be needed to sink a ship with -several holes drilled in the hull."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That depends on the size of the holes, fool!" said the -subahdar with a snort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"True, huzur; that is what the serang said. But he -went on to tell me of a case like your excellency's. His -ship was once captured by the pirates of the Sanderbands. -They drilled several holes in the hull, and rowed away, -leaving my friend and several of the crew to sink with the -vessel. But the holes were not big enough. When the -pirates had disappeared, the men on the ship, using all -their strength, managed to run her ashore, filled up the -holes at low tide, and floated her off when the tide came in -again."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A look of concern crept over the subahdar's face as he -listened. He was a man without experience of ships, and -became uneasy at the suggestion that anything might mar -the execution of his task. Manik Chand would not lightly -overlook a failure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hearing this, huzur," Hubbo continued, "I venture -to mention the matter to your excellency, especially as it -seemed to me, from what the serang said, that the holes -drilled by the pirates were even larger than those made by -the mistris[#] sent from the fort."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Head workmen.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The subahdar looked still more concerned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Wai!" he exclaimed, "it is very disturbing. And -there is no time to do anything; the Firangi's ships -are reported to be on their way up the river; the dogs of -Kafirs[#] may be here soon."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Unbelievers.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>He bit his fingers, frowned, looked anxiously down the -river, then across to the brick fort at Tanna, then to the -new mud fort at Aligarh on the other bank, as if -wondering whether he should send or signal a message to one or -the other. Hubbo was silent for a moment, then he said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Have I the huzur's leave to speak?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the twelve imáms[#], yes! but quickly."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] High priests descending from Ali, the son-in-law of -Mahomet.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>"There is a mistri on board the serang's boat who is -used to working in ships--a khalasi from Gujarat. He -might do something on board your excellency's ship. If -this vessel sank, according to the plan, the Firangi would -not be able to get aboard the others, and they would have -time to sink slowly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Barik allah![#] It is a good idea. Bid the mistri come -aboard at once."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] "Bravo!"</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hubbo sent a long hail over the water. The serang -cast off the rope by which he had made fast to the sloop, -and the petala came slowly down until it was abreast of -the subahdar's vessel. Hossain, Desmond, and Karim -stepped aboard, the last carrying a small box of tools. -Only the Bengali was left in the boat. All salaamed low -to the subahdar.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This, huzur, is my friend," said Hubbo, presenting -his brother. "This is the mistri, and this his assistant."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good!" said the subahdar. "Go down into the hold, -mistri: look to the holes; if they are not large enough, -make them larger, and as quickly as you can."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond with Karim dived down into the hold. It was -filled with earth, except where a gangway shored up with -balks of timber had been left to give access to the holes -that had been drilled and temporarily stopped. After a -few words from the subahdar, Hubbo and his brother -followed Desmond below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Half an hour later, Hubbo climbed up through the -hatchway and approached the subahdar, who was pacing -the deck, giving many an anxious glance down the river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The mistri has bored another hole, huzur. He said -the more holes the better. Perhaps your excellency will -deign to see whether you regard it as sufficient."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nay, I should defile my clothes," said the subahdar, -not relishing the thought of descending into the -malodorous depths.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"As your excellency pleases," said Hubbo salaaming.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then the gravity of his charge appeared to overcome -the subahdar's scruples. Gathering his robes close about -him, he stepped to the hatchway and lowered himself into -the hold.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We must hasten," he said. "The ships of the -Firangi may appear at any moment, and I must be on -the look-out. Meantime," he added to Hubbo, "you -keep watch."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a man of his build he was fairly active. Dropping -on to the loose earth, he scrambled over it towards the -oil-lamp by whose light the mistri and his assistant were -working.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"This, huzur," said Hossain, pointing to a circular cut -in the planking of the vessel, "is the new hole. It is -not yet driven through, but if your excellency thinks it -sufficient----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The subahdar craned forward to examine it. "Khubbar -dar!"[#] said Desmond in a low voice.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Look out!</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Hossain had only waited for this signal. He threw -himself on the stooping subahdar and bore him to the -floor, at the same time stuffing a gag between his teeth. -In a couple of minutes he was lying bound and helpless. -His ornate garment was but little sullied. It had been -stripped from him by the mistri, who hastily donned it -over his own scanty raiment, together with the subahdar's -turban.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How will that do, Hossain?" asked Desmond with a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The serang held up the oil-lamp to inspect him. With -his other hand he slightly altered the set of the turban and -rearranged the folds of the robe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is excellent, sahib," he said. "A little more -girth would perhaps have been better, but in the distance -no one will notice."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then calling to Hubbo he said that all was ready. -Hossain clambered through the hatchway, leaving -Desmond concealed behind a large timber upright -supporting the deck. As soon as the serang had reached his -side Hubbo called to the men on watch and said--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eo! Ali, Chedi, come here!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Jo hukm!"[#] replied one of the men. Two of the -three hurried aft, and at Hubbo's bidding swung down -into the hold. The serang ordered them to go towards -the lamp. They groped their way in that direction; -Desmond sprang up through the hatchway; it was -clapped down and firmly secured, and the subahdar with -two-thirds of his crew was a prisoner in the hold. The -third man at the far end of the boat had not seen or -heard anything of what had happened.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Whatever is ordered (I will obey)</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>So far the plot had succeeded admirably. Whatever -order might reach the waiting vessels, it would not be -given by the subahdar. The question now was, how to -prevent the men in charge of the vessels and the -authorities in Tanna Fort from becoming suspicious. The -latter would not be difficult. Manik Chand would gain -nothing by blocking the fairway unless it were absolutely -necessary to do so, and, in common with other of the -Nawab's lieutenants, he had an overweening confidence -in the power of the forts to repel an attack from the -English ships. For this reason it was advisable to make -the minds of the other men easy, and Desmond soon hit -on a plan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You had better return to your sloop, Hubbo," he -said. "Send a message to the men on the other vessels -that I--the subahdar, you know--have made up my mind -to allow one of the enemy's ships to pass me before -giving the signal. I shall thus capture one at least, and -it may be the admiral's."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hubbo set off, and when he reached his own vessel he -sent a boat with a message to each of the ships in turn. -Meanwhile, thinking the appearance of a petala alongside -of the subahdar's sloop might awaken suspicion or -at least curiosity in the fort, Desmond decided to send -it down the river in charge of Hossain. He was thus -left alone on deck with the subahdar's third man.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For a time the man, standing far forward, was unaware -of the striking change in the personality garbed in the -subahdar's clothes. But glancing back at length, he -started, looked a second time, and after a moment's -hesitation walked down the deck.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go back to your post," said Desmond sternly, "and -see that you keep a good look-out for the Firangi's -ships."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The man salaamed and returned to the prow in -manifest bewilderment. More than once he looked back as -he heard strange knockings from below. Desmond only -smiled. If the sound was heard from the forts, it would -be regarded merely as a sign that the preparations for -sinking the vessel were not yet completed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Time passed on, and ever and anon Desmond looked -eagerly down the river for a sign of the oncoming fleet. -At last, somewhere about midday, he observed signs of -excitement in Tanna Fort, and almost simultaneously saw -a puff of smoke and heard a report from one of its guns. -Shortly afterwards he observed the spars of a British-built -ship slowly approaching up-stream. In full confidence -that the scheme for blocking the river was now -frustrated, he awaited with patience the arrival of the -fleet, wondering whether the forts would make a -determined resistance.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Slowly the vessel drew nearer. Another shot was fired -from the fort, with what result Desmond could not tell. -But immediately afterwards he heard the distant report -of a heavy gun, followed by a crash near at hand, and -a babel of yells. A shot from the British ship had -plumped right in the centre of Tanna Fort. At the same -moment Desmond recognized the figure-head.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span>!" he said to himself with a smile. -"Won't Captain Latham grin when he sees me in this rig!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Then he laughed aloud, for the valiant defenders of -Tanna Fort had not waited for a second shot. They -were swarming helter-skelter out of harm's way, rushing -at the top of their speed up the river and leaving their -fortress to its fate. On the other bank the garrison of -Aligarh Fort had also taken flight, and were streaming -along with excited cries in the direction of Calcutta. -The man in the bows of the sloop looked amazedly at -the new subahdar. Why did he laugh? Why did he not -wave the green flag that lay at his hand? When were -the men who had gone below going to knock out the -stoppings of the holes and take to the boat with himself -and their commander? But the subahdar still stood -laughing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>All at once Desmond, remembering the real subahdar -below, asked himself: what if he drove out the bungs -and scuttled the vessel? But the question brought a -smile to his lips. He could not conceive of the Bengali -playing such a heroic part, and he possessed his soul in -peace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Now the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> was full in sight, and behind her -Desmond saw the well-remembered </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, Admiral Watson's -flagship. The stampede from the forts had evidently -been observed on board, for firing had ceased, and boats -were already being lowered and filled with men. -Desmond waited. The </span><em class="italics">Tyger's</em><span> boats, he saw, were making -for Tanna Fort: the </span><em class="italics">Kent's</em><span> for Aligarh. But one of the -latter was heading straight for the sloop. Desmond -could not resist the temptation to a joke. Making -himself look as important as he could, he stood by the -gunwale watching with an air of dignity the oncoming of the -boat. It was in command of a young lieutenant. The -men bent to their oars with a will, and Desmond could -soon hear the voice of the officer as he called to his crew.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But his amusement was mingled with amazement and -delight when, in the big form sitting in the bow of the -boat, he recognized no other than his old messmate, his -old comrade in the Battle of the Carts--William Bulger. -The joke would be even better than he had expected. -The boat drew closer: it was level with the nose of the -sloop; and the lieutenant sang out the command, "Ship -oars!" It came alongside.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bulger," cried the lieutenant, "skip aboard and -announce us to that old peacock on deck."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Ay, ay, sir," replied Bulger, "which his feathers will -be plucked, or my name en't Bulger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the side of the sloop lay the dinghy intended to -convey the subahdar and his men ashore when the work -of sinking had been started. It was made fast to the -vessel by a rope. Bulger sprang into the dinghy and -then began an ascent so clever, and at the same time -so comical, that Desmond had much ado not to spoil -his joke by a premature explosion of laughter. The burly -seaman swarmed up the rope like a monkey, clasping it -with his legs as he took each upward grip. But the -comedy of his actions was provided by his hook. Having -only one arm--an arm, it is true, with the biceps of a -giant--he could not clutch the rope in the ordinary way. -But at each successive spring he dug his hook into the -side of the vessel, and mounted with amazing rapidity, -talking to himself all the time.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Avast, there!" he shouted, as with a final heave upon -the hook dug into the gunwale he hoisted himself on deck. -"Haul down your colours, matey, which they make a -pretty pictur', they do."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He came overpoweringly towards Desmond, his arm -and stump spread wide as if to embrace him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be wrong," said Desmond, "but have I not -the pleasure of addressing Mr. William Bulger?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger started as if shot. His broad face spelt first -blank amazement, then incredulity, then surprised belief. -Spreading his legs wide and bending his knees, he -rested his hand on one and his hook on the other, shut -one eye, and stuck his tongue out at the corner of his -mouth.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By the Dutchman!" he exclaimed, "if it don't beat -cock-fighting! Sure, 'tis Mr. Burke himself! Anna Maria! -But for why did you go for to make yourself sich a Guy -Faux guy, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How are you, old fellow?" said Desmond heartily. -"I am a bit of a scarecrow, no doubt, but we've won -the trick, man. The real guy is down below, dead from -fright by this time, I expect. Sorry to give you the -trouble of boarding, sir," he added, as the lieutenant -came over the side. "If you'll take me into your boat, -I'll be glad to report to the admiral or to Colonel Clive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By jiminy, Mr. Burke!" said the lieutenant, laughing, -"you've got a way of your own of popping up at odd -times and in odd places. Come with me by all means--just -as you are, if you please. The admiral wouldn't -miss the look of you for anything. By George! 'tis a -rare bit of play-acting. Did I hear you say you've got -some natives under hatchways?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; the owner of this finery is below with two of -his men. You can hear him now." There was a violent -and sustained knocking below deck. "I'll send my -man to release him. The fleet are all coming up, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes; the </span><em class="italics">Bridgewater</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Kingfisher</em><span> are close in our -wake. Come along; we'll catch the admiral before he -goes ashore."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-eighth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Captain Barker has cause to rue the -day when he met Mr. Diggle; and our -hero continues to wipe off old scores.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Desmond received a warm welcome both from Admiral -Watson and Colonel Clive. His account of the manner in -which he had defeated Manik Chand's scheme for blocking -the river was received with shouts of laughter, while his -ingenuity and courage were warmly commended by both -officers. Indeed, the admiral, always more impulsive -than Clive, offered him on the spot a lieutenancy in the -fleet, and was not very well pleased when Desmond -politely declined the honour. Desmond caught a gleam -of approval in Clive's eyes, and later in the day, when -he saw his hero alone, he felt well rewarded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A naval lieutenant ranks higher than a lieutenant in -the army--I suppose you know that, Burke?" said Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And you're only a cadet. From to-day you are a -lieutenant, my lad. I am pleased with you, and whatever -his enemies say of Bob Clive, no one ever said of him that -he forgot a friend."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The forces proceeded to Calcutta next day, and retook -the town with surprising ease. Manik Chand was so -much alarmed by seeing the effect of the big guns of -the fleet that he abandoned the place almost without -striking a blow, and when the British troops entered they -were too late even to make any prisoners save a few of -the rag-tag and bobtail in the rear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman returned to Calcutta a few days later. -Desmond was grieved to observe how rapidly he was -aging. In spite of Clive's recommendation to keep silence -he could not refrain from telling his friend what he had -discovered about the missing ladies; and he did not regret -it, for the knowledge that they were alive and, when last -heard of, out of Peloti's clutches, acted like a tonic. -Merriman was all eagerness to set off and search for them -himself; but, Desmond pointing out the danger of such -a course, he reluctantly agreed to wait a little longer, and -see whether any news could be obtained during the -operations which Clive was planning against the Nawab.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile, Desmond learnt from Bulger what had -happened to him since the fall of Calcutta. He was one of -the hundred and forty-six thrown into the Black Hole.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis only by the mercy of the Almighty I'm here -to-day," he said solemnly. "I saw what 'twould be as -soon as the door of that Black Hole was locked, and me -and some others tried to force it. 'Twern't no good. -Mr. Holwell--he's a brave man, an' no mistake--begged -an' prayed of us all to be quiet; but lor' bless you, he -might ha' saved his breath. 'Twas a hot night; we soon -began to sweat most horrible an' feel a ragin' thirst. We -took off most of our clothes, an' waved our hats to set the -air a-movin'; which 'twas hard enough work, 'cos we -was packed so tight. I en't a-going' to tell you all the -horrors o' that night, sir; I'd like uncommon to forget -'em, though I don't believe I never shall. 'Twas so awful -that many a poor wretch begged of the Moors outside -to fire on 'em. Worst was when the old jamadar put -skins o' water in at the window. My God! them about -me fought like demons, which if I hadn't flattened myself -against the wall I should ha' been crushed or trodden to -death, like most on 'em. For me, I couldn't get near the -water; I sucked my shirt sleeves, an' 'tis my belief 'twas -on'y that saved me from goin' mad. A man what was -next me took out his knife an' slit a vein, 'cos he couldn't -bear the agony no longer. Soon arter, I fell in a dead -faint, an' knowed no more till I found myself on my -back outside, with a Moor chuckin' water at me. They -let me go, along with some others; and a rotten old hulk -I was, there en't no mistake about that. Why, bless you, -my skin come out all boils as thick as barnacles on a hull -arter a twelve months' voyage, all 'cos o' being in sich bad -air without water. And then the fever came aboard, an' -somehow or other I got shipped to the mounseers' hospital -at Chandernagore, which they was very kind to me, sir; -there en't no denyin' that. I may be wrong, but I could -take my oath, haffidavy, an' solemn will an' testament -that a mounseer's got a heart inside of his body arter all, -which makes him all the better chap to have a slap at -if you come to think of the why an' wherefore of it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how came you on board the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span>?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, when my boils was gone an' the fever slung -overboard, I got down to Fulta an' held on the slack -there; an' when the ships come up, they sent for me, 'cos -havin' sailed up an' down the river many a time, they -thought as how I could do a bit o' pilotin', there not bein' -enough Dutch pilots to go round. An' I ha' had some -fun, too, which I wonder I can laugh arter that Black -Hole and all. By thunder! 'tis a merry sight to see the -Moors run. The very look of a cutlass a'most turns 'em -white, and they well-nigh drops down dead if they see -a sailor man. Why, t'other day at Budge-Budge--they -ought to call it Fudge-Fudge now, seems to me--the -Jack-tars went ashore about nightfall to help the lobsters -storm the fort in the dark. But Colonel Clive he was -dog-tired an' went to his bed, sayin' as how he'd lead a -boardin' party in the mornin'. That warn't exactly beans -an' bacon; nary a man but would ha' took a big dose -o' fever if they'd laid out on the fields all night. Anyways, -somewhere about eleven, an' pitch dark, a Jack which his -name is Strahan--a Scotchman, by what they say--went -off all alone by himself to have a sort of private peep at -that there fort. He was pretty well filled up wi' grog, -or pr'aps he wouldn't ha' been quite so venturesome. -Well, he waded up to his chin in a ditch o' mud what -goes round the fort, with his pistols above his head. -When he gets over, bang goes one pistol, an' he sets up -a shout: 'One and all, my boys! one and all, hurray!' -a-dreamin' I s'pose as he was captain of a boardin' party -an' a crew o' swabs behind him. Up he goes, up the -bastion; bang goes t'other pistol; then he outs with his -cutlass, a-roarin' hurray with a voice like a twelve-pounder; -down goes three o' them Moors; another breaks Jack's -cutlass with his scimitar; bless you, what's he care? don't -care a straw, which his name is Strahan; he've got a -fist, he have, an' he dashes it in the Moor's face, collars -his scimitar, cuts his throat and sings out 'Ho, mateys! this -'ere fort's mine!' Up comes three or four of his -mates what heard his voice; they swings round the cannon -on the bastion an' turns it on the enemy; bang! bang! and -bless your heart, the Moors cut and run, an' the fort -was ourn."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the moment Desmond thought that Bulger was -drawing the long bow. But meeting Captain Speke of -the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> a little later, he asked how much truth there was -in the story.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis all true," said the captain, laughing, "but not -the whole truth. The day after Strahan's mad -performance the admiral sends for him: discipline must be -maintained, you know. 'What's this I hear about you?' -says Mr. Watson, with a face of thunder. Strahan bobbed, -and scratched his head, and twirled his hat in his hand, -and says: 'Why to be sure, sir, 'twas I took the fort, -and I hope there en't no harm in it!' By George! 'twas -as much as the admiral could do to keep a straight face. -He got the fellow to tell us about it: we had our faces in -our handkerchiefs all the time. Then Mr. Watson gave -him a pretty rough wigging, and wound up by saying -that he'd consult me as to the number of lashes to be laid -on. You should have seen the fellow's face! As he -went out of the cabin I heard him mutter: 'Well, if I'm -to be flogged for this 'ere action, be hanged if I ever take -another fort alone by myself as long as I live!'"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surely he wasn't flogged?" said Desmond, laughing -heartily.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Oh no! Mr. Watson told us as a matter of form -to put in a plea for the fellow, and then condescended to -let him off. Pity he's such a loose fish!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For two months Desmond remained with Clive. He -was with him at the capture of Hugli, and in that brisk -fight at Calcutta on February 5 which gave the -Nawab his first taste of British quality. Siraj-uddaula -was encamped to the north-east of the town with a huge -army. In a heavy fog, about daybreak, Clive came up -at the head of a mixed force of King's troops, sepoys and -sailors, some 2,000 men in all. Hordes of Persian cavalry -charged him through the mist, but they were beaten off, -and Clive forced his way through the enemy's camp until -he came near the Nawab's own tents, pitched in -Omichand's garden. Siraj-uddaula himself was within an -ace of being captured. His troops made but a poor stand -against the British, and by midday the battle was over.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Scared by this defeat, the Nawab was ready to conclude -with the Company the treaty which long negotiations had -failed to effect. By this treaty the trading privileges -granted to the Company by the Emperor of Delhi were -confirmed; the Nawab agreed to pay full compensation -for the losses sustained by the Company and its servants; -and the right to fortify Calcutta was conceded. The -long-standing grievances of the Company were thus, on paper, -redressed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A day or two after the battle a ship arrived with the -news that war had been declared in Europe between -England and France. Efforts to maintain neutrality between -the English and French in Bengal having failed, Clive -wished the Nawab to join him in an attack on the French -settlements in Bengal. This the Nawab refused to do, -though he wrote promising that he would hold as enemies -all who were enemies of Clive--a promise that bore bitter -fruit before many months had passed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The French were keen rivals of the Company in the trade -of India, and constantly took advantage of native troubles -to score a point in the game. Clive had come to Bengal -with the full intention of making the Company, whose -servant he was, supreme; and having secured the treaty -with Siraj-uddaula he resolved to turn his arms against -the French. They were suspected of helping the Nawab -in his expedition against Calcutta: it was known that the -Nawab, treating his engagements with reckless levity and -faithlessness, was trying to persuade Bussy, the French -commander in the Dekkan, to help him to expel the British -from Bengal. There was excuse enough for an attack on -Chandernagore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But before Clive could open hostilities, he was required, -by an old arrangement with the Mogul, to obtain -permission from the Nawab. This permission was at length -got from him by Omichand. The sack of Calcutta by the -Nawab had caused Omichand great loss, and, hoping in -part to retrieve it, he made his peace with Clive and the -Council, and was then selected to accompany Mr. Watts -when he went as British representative to Murshidabad. -The wily Sikh, working always for his own ends, contrived -to make the unstable young despot believe that the French -were tricking him, and in a fit of passion he sealed a letter -allowing Admiral Watson to make war upon them. He -repented of it immediately, but the letter was gone. On -the day after it reached the Admiral, March 12, 1757, Clive -sent a summons to Monsieur Renault, the governor of -Chandernagore, to surrender the fort. No reply was -received that day, and Clive resolved, failing a satisfactory -answer within twenty-four hours, to read King George's -declaration of war and attack the French.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was breakfasting among a number of his -fellow-officers next morning when up came Hossain, the -serang who had accompanied him in his eventful journeys -up and down the Hugli. Lately he had been employed, -on Desmond's recommendation, in bringing supplies up -the river for the troops. The man salaamed and said that -he wished to say a few words privately to the sahib. -Desmond rose, and went apart with him. At sunrise, said -the man, a vessel flying Dutch colours had dropped down -the river past the English fleet. Her name was Dutch, -and her destination Rotterdam; but Hossain was certain -that she was really the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, which Desmond had -pointed out to him as they passed Chandernagore, and -which they had more than once seen since in the course of -their journeys. Her appearance had attracted some attention -on the fleet; and the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> had sent a shot after her, -ordering her to heave to; but having a strong north-east -wind behind her, she took no notice of the signal and held -on her course. Desmond thanked Hossain for the information, -and, leaving his breakfast unfinished, went off at once -to see Clive, whom he was to join that morning on a tour of -inspection of the north-west part of the French settlement.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I don't see what we can do," said Clive, when -Desmond repeated the news to him. "Mr. Watson no -doubt suspected her when it was too late. Nothing but -a regular chase could have captured her after she had -passed. Ships can't be spared for that; they've much -more important work on hand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Still, 'tis a pity, sir," said Desmond. "'Tis not only -that Captain Barker is an interloper; he has been in league -with pirates, and his being at Chandernagore all these -months means no good."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It means at any rate that he hasn't been able to get a -cargo. Trade's at a standstill. Well, I'd give -something to lay Mr. Barker and his crew by the heels--on -behalf of the Company, Burke, for don't forget, as some -of our friends of the Calcutta Council do, that I am here to -save the Company, not their private property. 'Tis too -late to stop the vessel now."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd like to try, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I daresay you would. You're as ready to take risks as -I am," he added, with his characteristic pursing of the -lips; "and 'pon my word, you're just as lucky! For I'm -lucky, Burke; there's no doubt of it. That affair at -Calcutta might have done for us but for the morning mist. -I'd like to try myself. It would punish a set of rogues, -and discourage interloping, to the benefit of the Company. -But I can't spare men for the job. Barker has no doubt a -large crew; they'll be on the look-out for attack; no, I -can't touch it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond hesitated for a moment. He did not wish to -lose the fighting at Chandernagore, but he had the strongest -personal reasons for desiring the arrest of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think, sir, we shall capture this place -to-morrow?" he asked suddenly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Scarcely, my boy," said Clive, "nor by to-morrow -week unless the French have forgotten how to fight. -Why do you ask?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Because if you'd give me leave I'd like to have a shot -at the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>--provided I got back in time to be with -you in the fighting line, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, I can't keep things waiting, even for you," said -Clive with a smile; "and it seems a wild-goose -chase--rather a hazardous one."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'd risk that, sir. I could get together some men in -Calcutta, and I'd hope to be back here in a couple of days."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, well, Burke, you'd wheedle the Mogul himself. -Any one could tell you're an Irishman. Get along then; -do your best, and if you don't come back I'll try to take -Chandernagore without you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He smiled as he slapped Desmond on the shoulder. -Well pleased with his ready consent, Desmond hurried away, -got a horse, and, riding hard, reached Calcutta by eight -o'clock and went straight to Mr. Merriman. Explaining -what was afoot he asked for the loan of the men of the -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>. Merriman at once agreed; Captain Barker -was a friend of Peloti; and he needed no stronger -inducement. Desmond hurried down to the river; the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> -was lying off Cruttenden Ghat, and Mr. Toley for once -broke through his settled sadness of demeanour when he -learnt of the expedition proposed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While Toley collected the crew and made his preparations, -Desmond consulted a pilot. The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> had -passed Calcutta an hour before; but the man said that, -though favoured by the wind, she would scarcely get past -the bar at Mayapur on the evening tide. She might do -so if exceptionally lucky; in that case there would be very -little chance of overtaking her.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Less than two hours after Desmond reached Calcutta -two budgeros left Cruttenden Ghat. Each was provided -with a double complement of men, and although the sails -filled with a strong following wind, their oars were kept -constantly in play. The passengers on board were for the -most part unaccustomed to this luxurious mode of -travelling. There were a dozen lascars; Hossain the serang; -Karim, the man saved by Desmond at Chandernagore; -Bulger and the second mate of the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span>, and -Mr. Toley, who, like Desmond and the serang, was clothed, -much to Bulger's amusement, as a fairly well-to-do ryot.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For some hours the tide was contrary, but when it -turned, the budgeros, under the combined impulse of sail, -oar and current, made swift progress, arousing some -curiosity among the crews of riverside craft, little accustomed -to the sight of budgeros moving so rapidly. Approaching -Mayapur, Desmond descried the spars of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> -a long way ahead. Was there enough water to allow her -to pass the bar? he wondered. Apparently there was, -for she kept straight on her course under full sail. -Desmond bit his lips with vexation, and had almost given up -hope, though he did not permit any slackening of speed, -when to his joy he saw the vessel strike her topsails, then -the rest of her canvas. He at once ran his boats to the -shore at Mayapur. There were a number of river craft -at the place, so that the movements of his budgeros, if -observed from the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, were not likely to awaken -suspicion. On landing, he went to the house of a native -merchant, Babu Aghor Nath Bose, to whom he had a -letter from Mr. Merriman.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Can you arrange for us," he said, when civilities had -been exchanged, "to-night, the loan of two shabby old -country boats?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The native considered.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I think I can, sahib," he said at length. "I would -do much for Merriman Sahib. A man I frequently employ -is now anchored off my ghat. No doubt, for fair pay, he -and another might be persuaded to lend their craft."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very well, be good enough to arrange it. I only -require the boats for a few hours to-morrow morning. Do -you think twenty rupees would suffice?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The native opened his eyes. He himself would not have -offered so much. But he said--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Doubtless that will suffice, sahib. The matter is -settled."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will meet you in an hour. Thank you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Returning to the budgeros, Desmond instructed Hossain -to go into the bazar and buy up all the fresh fruit he could -find. The sales for the day were over, but Hossain hunted -up the fruit sellers and bargained so successfully that when -he returned he was accompanied by a whole gang of coolies, -bearing what seemed to Desmond an appalling quantity -of melons, all for thirty rupees.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before this, however, Aghor Nath Bose had reported -that the hire of the two boats was duly arranged. They -were open boats, little more than barges, with a small cabin -or shelter aft. Their crews had been dismissed and had -taken their belongings ashore; both were empty of cargo. -Desmond went with Bulger on board and arranged a -number of bamboos crosswise on the boats, covering up -the empty spaces which would usually be occupied by -merchandise. Over the bamboos he placed a layer of thin -matting, and on this, when Hossain returned, he ordered -the coolies to put the melons. To a casual observer it -would have appeared that the boats were laden with a -particularly heavy cargo of the golden fruit.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An hour before dawn the lascars and others from the -</span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> slipped quietly from the budgeros on board -the country boats, and bestowed themselves as best they -could under the bamboo deck supporting the melons. It -was cool in the early morning, although the hot season was -approaching; but Desmond did not envy the men their -close quarters. They were so much excited, however, at -the adventure before them, and so eager to earn the liberal -reward promised them if it succeeded, that not a man -murmured. The Europeans had cooler quarters in the rude -cabins, where they were hidden from prying eyes under -miscellaneous native wraps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond had learnt from the pilot that it would be -nearly eight o'clock before the depth of water over the bar -was sufficient to allow a ship like the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> to proceed -with safety. A little before daybreak the two boats crept -out from the ghat. It was well to avoid curiosity before -Mayapur woke up. Desmond steered the first, Hossain the -second; and besides the steersman there were two men -visible on the deck of each. The tide was running up, but -the wind still held from the north-east, and, though -moderated in force since the evening, it was strong enough to -take them slowly down towards the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>. The -sky was lightening, but a slight mist hung over the river. -Desmond kept a close look-out ahead, and in a quarter -of an hour he caught sight of the hull of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, -looming before him out of the mist. Allowing the second -boat to come alongside, he turned and spoke to the serang.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Now, Hossain, there she is. Hail her."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eo, eo!" shouted the man. "Do the sahibs want -to buy any fresh fruit?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>An oath floated down from the stern. Captain Barker -was there, peering intently through the mist up the river.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good melons, sahib, all fresh, and not too ripe. Cheap -as ragi, sahib."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The mate had joined the captain; the Dutch pilot stood -by smoking a pipe. The fruit boats had by this time come -under the stern of the vessel, and Desmond heard the mate -say--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We came away in such a hurry, sir, that we hadn't time -to take in a supply of vegetables. Melons'll keep, sir, if -they en't over-ripe."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barker growled, then bent over and called to the serang. -"How much?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Very cheap, sahib, very cheap. I will come aboard."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Then be quick about it: we're going to trip the anchor, -melons or no melons. D'ye hear?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hossain ran down the sail and clambered up the chains, -while the other boatmen made fast to a rope thrown from -the deck. Desmond also lowered his sail, steering so as -to approach the port quarter of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, the serang's -boat being on the starboard. No rope was thrown to him, -but he found that the tide was now only strong enough to -neutralize the wind, and a stroke every now and again -with the paddle at the stern kept his boat stationary.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Meanwhile there came from the deck the sing-song of -men heaving up the anchor. When the serang stepped -on board the greater part of the crew of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> -were forward. Little time was spent in haggling. A -melon was thrown up as a sample, and the price asked was -so extraordinarily low that Captain Barker evidently -thought he had got a bargain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Heave 'em up," he said, "and if they en't all up to -sample----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He broke off, no doubt believing that his fierce scowl -was sufficient to point his threat. The serang hailed -Desmond to come alongside. A few sweeps of the paddle -brought the boat close underneath the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent's</em><span> side, -and a second rope enabled him to make fast.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He swarmed up the rope, followed by one of the -boatmen. The other on the boat began to fill a basket with -melons, as if preparing to send them on board. At the -same time Karim joined Hossain from the other side, so -that there were now four of the party on deck. At a sign -from Desmond, the two natives, carrying out instructions -previously given, strolled towards the companion way. -Hossain had started a conversation with the captain and -mate, telling them about the British fleet he had passed as he -came down the river. The Dutch pilot looked on, stolidly -puffing his pipe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond stepped to the side of the vessel as though to -hoist the basket with the running tackle. Making a sign -to the men below, he called in a loud voice--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Tano!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Instantly the men swarmed up the rope. At the signal, -misleading to the crew of the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span>, man after man -crawled from beneath the matting on the boat below, and -clambered up the ropes, led by Bulger on one side and -Mr. Toley on the other. They made little noise, and that was -drowned by the sing-song of the sailors and the grinding of -the cables; the pilot with his back to the bulwarks saw -nothing, and before Captain Barker knew that anything -unusual was occurring both Bulger and Toley were -tumbling over the sides. The captain stood almost petrified -with amazement as he saw Bulger's red face rising like -the morning sun. He stepped back a pace.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What the----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The exclamation was never completed. Desmond stepped -up to him, and in a low voice said--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"In the name of His Majesty King George I call upon -you, Captain Barker, to surrender this ship."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He had a levelled pistol in his hand. Bulger with a -cutlass sprang to one side, and Toley ranged himself on the -other. Hossain had joined the two boatmen at the -companion way; all had brought out pistols from the folds -of their clothing, and the companion way commanded -access to the ship's armoury.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Barker, who had grown purple at the sight of Bulger, -now turned a sickly white. The mate dashed forward, -calling to the crew, who, seeing that something was amiss, -came along with a rush, arming themselves with belaying -pins and any other weapons that came handy. Toley, -however, leaving the cowed and speechless captain to -Desmond, stepped towards the men. They recognized -him at once and paused doubtfully.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You know me," he said. "I'm a man of few words. -You won't go further this voyage. Captain Barker has -surrendered the ship. You'll drop those desperate things -in your hands and go for'ard. Show a leg, now!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The men looked from one to another, then at the captain, -who was at that moment handing over his sword to -Desmond. If Captain Barker was too badly beaten to swear, -he was in poor case indeed. The crew's hesitation was but -momentary: under Toley's sad gaze they sullenly flung -down their weapons and went forward. Only then did the -captain find speech. But it was to utter a fearful curse, -ending with the name--</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Diggle."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-twenty-ninth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which our hero does not win the Battle of -Plassey; but, where all do well, gains -as much glory as the rest.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Leaving Mr. Toley to bring the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> up to Calcutta, -Desmond hurried back in advance and remained in the town -just long enough to inform Mr. Merriman of the happy result -of his adventure and to change into his own clothes, and then -returned to Chandernagore on horseback as he had come. -He found Clive encamped two miles to the west of the fort. -No reply having reached him from Monsieur Renault, Clive -had read the Declaration of War as he had threatened, -and opened hostilities by an attack on an outpost.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You've no need to tell me you've succeeded, Burke," -he said, when Desmond presented himself. "I see it in -your eyes. But I've no time to hear your story now. It -must wait until we have seen the result of the day's fighting. -Not that I expect much of it in this quarter. We can't -take the place with the land force only, and I won't throw -away life till the Admiral has tried the effect of his guns."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The French in Chandernagore were not well prepared to -stand a determined siege. The Governor, Monsieur Renault, -had none of the military genius of a Dupleix or a Bussy. -With him were only some eight hundred fighting men, of -whom perhaps half were Europeans. Instead of concentrating -his defence on the fort he scattered his men about -the town, leaving the weakest part of his defences, the -eastern curtain, insufficiently manned. He believed that -Admiral Watson would find it impossible to bring his -biggest ships within gunshot, and fancied that by sinking -some vessels at the narrowest part of the river he would -keep the whole British fleet unemployed--a mistake that -was to cost him dear.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By the night of March 14 Clive had driven in the -outposts. The immediate effect of this was the desertion of -2,000 natives sent to Renault's assistance by Nandkumar -the faujdar of Hugli. A continuous bombardment was -kept up until the 19th, when Admiral Watson arrived from -Calcutta with the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span>, and the </span><em class="italics">Salisbury</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Next morning an officer was despatched in a boat to -summon Renault once more to surrender. Rowing between -the sunken vessels, whose masts showed above water, he -took soundings and found that with careful handling -the men-o'-war might safely pass. Once more Renault -refused to surrender. His offer to ransom the fort was -declined by the Admiral, who the same night sent the master -of the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> to buoy the Channel. Two nights later, in pitch -darkness, several English boats were rowed with muffled -oars to the sunken vessels. Their crews fixed lanterns to -the masts of these in such a way that the lights, while guiding -the warships, would be invisible from the fort.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Early next morning Clive captured the battery commanding -the river passage, and the three British ships ran up -with the tide. The </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> and </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> opened fire on the -south-east and north-east bastions, and these two vessels bore -the brunt of a tremendous cannonade from the fort. The -French artillery was well served, doing fearful damage on -board the British vessels. On the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span>, save the Admiral -himself and one lieutenant, every officer was killed or -wounded. One shot struck down Captain Speke and shattered -the leg of his son, a brave boy of sixteen, who refused -to allow his wound to be examined until his father had -been attended to, and then bore the pain of the rough -amputation of those days without a murmur. Meanwhile -Clive's men had climbed to the roofs of houses near the -fort, which commanded the French batteries; and his -musketeers poured in a galling fire and shot down the gunners at -their work. As the walls of the barracks and fort were -shattered by the guns from the ships, the sepoys crept closer -and closer, awaiting the word to storm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The morning drew on. Admiral Watson began to fear -that when the tide fell his big guns would be at too low a -level to do further execution. There was always considerable -rivalry between himself and Clive, fed by the stupid -jealousy of some of the Calcutta Council. While Clive, -foreseeing even more serious work later, was anxious to -spare his men, Watson was equally eager to reap all possible -credit for a victory over the French. As it happened, neither -had to go to the last extremity, for about half-past nine a -white flag was seen flying from the fort. Lieutenant Brereton -of the </span><em class="italics">Kent</em><span> and Captain Eyre Coote from the land force -were sent to arrange the surrender, and a little later the -articles of capitulation were signed by Admirals Watson -and Pocock, and by Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was by no means satisfied with the part he -played in the fight. In command of a company of -sepoys, he was one of the first to rush the shore battery and -take post under the walls of the barracks in readiness to -lead a storming party. But, as he complained afterwards -to his friend Captain Latham of the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span>, the fleet had -the honours of the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"After all, you're better off than I am," grumbled the -captain; "how would you like to have your laurels snatched -away? Admiral Pocock ought to have remained on the -</span><em class="italics">Cumberland</em><span> down the river and left the </span><em class="italics">Tyger</em><span> to me. But -he didn't see the fun of being out of the fighting; and up -he came post-haste and hoisted his flag on my ship, putting -my nose badly out of joint, I can tell you. Still, one -oughtn't to grumble. It doesn't matter much who gets -the credit so long as we've done our job. 'Tis all in the -day's work."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The victory at Chandernagore destroyed the French -power in Bengal. But it turned out to be only the prelude -to a greater event--an event which must be reckoned as -the foundation stone of the British Empire in India. It -sprang from the character of Siraj-uddaula. That prince -was a cruel despot, but weak-willed, vacillating, and -totally unable to keep a friend. One day he would strut in -some vainglorious semblance of dignity; the next he would -engage in drunken revels with the meanest and most dissolute -of his subjects. He insulted his commander-in-chief, -Mir Jafar: he offended the Seths, wealthy bankers of -Murshidabad who had helped him to his throne: he played -fast and loose with every one with whom he had dealings. -His own people were weary of him, and at length a plot -was hatched to dethrone him and set Mir Jafar in his -place.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Watts, the British agent in Murshidabad, communicated -this design to Clive and the Council of Calcutta, suggesting -that they should co-operate in deposing the vicious -Nawab. They agreed, on the grounds that his dishonesty -and insolence showed that he had no real intention of abiding -by the terms of his treaty, and that he was constantly -intriguing with the French. A treaty was accordingly drawn -up with Mir Jafar, in which the prospective Subah agreed -to all the terms formerly granted by Siraj-uddaula. But -Omichand, who was on bad terms with Mir Jafar and the -Seths, threatened to reveal the whole plot to the Nawab -and have Mr. Watts put to death, unless he were guaranteed -in the treaty the payment of a sum of money equivalent to -nearly £400,000. Clive was so much disgusted with -Omichand's double-dealing that, though he was ready to make -him fair compensation for his losses in Calcutta, he was not -inclined to accede to his impudent demand. Yet it would -be dangerous to refuse him point-blank. He therefore -descended to a trick which, whatever may be urged in its -defence--the proved treachery of Omichand, the customs -of the country, the utter want of scruple shown by the -natives in their dealings--must ever remain a blot on a great -man's fame. Two treaties with Mir Jafar were drawn up; -one on red paper, known as </span><em class="italics">lal kagaz</em><span>, containing a clause -embodying Omichand's demand; the other on white, -containing no such clause. Admiral Watson, with bluff -honesty, refused to have anything to do with the sham -treaty; it was dishonourable, he said, and to ask his signature -was an affront. But his signature was necessary to satisfy -Omichand. At Clive's request it was forged by Mr. Lushington, -a young writer of the Company's. The red treaty -was shown to Omichand; it bought his silence; he -suspected nothing.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The plot was now ripe. Omichand left Murshidabad; -Mr. Watts slipped away; and the Nawab, on being -informed of his flight, wrote to Clive and Watson, upbraiding -them with breaking their treaty with him, and set out -to join his army.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive left Chandernagore on June 13, his guns, stores -and European soldiers being towed up the river in 200 boats, -the sepoys marching along the highway parallel with the -right bank. Palti and Katwa were successively occupied -by his advance guard under Eyre Coote. But a terrible -rainstorm on the 18th delayed his march, and next day -he received from Mir Jafar a letter that gave him no -little uneasiness. Mir Jafar announced that he had -pretended to patch up his quarrel with the Nawab and -sworn to be loyal to him; but he added that the measures -arranged with Clive were still to be carried out. This -strange message suggested that Mir Jafar was playing off -one against the other, or at best temporising until he -was sure of the victor. It was serious enough to give -pause to Clive. He was 150 miles from his base at -Calcutta; before him was an unfordable river watched by a -vast hostile force. If Mir Jafar should elect to remain -faithful to his master the English Army would in all -likelihood be annihilated. In these circumstances Clive wrote -to the Committee of Council in Calcutta that he would -not cross the river until he was definitely assured that Mir -Jafar would join him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His decision seemed to be justified next day when he -received a letter from Mr. Watts at Kalna. On the day he -left Murshidabad, said Mr. Watts, Mir Jafar had denounced -him as a spy and sworn to repel any attempt of the English -to cross the river. On receipt of this news Clive adopted -a course unusual with him. He called a Council of War, -for the first and last time in his career. Desmond was in -Major Killpatrick's tent when the summons to attend the -Council reached that officer.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Burke, my boy," he said, "'tis a mighty odd thing. -Mr. Clive is not partial to Councils; has had enough of 'em at -Madras first, and lately at Calcutta. D'you know, I don't -understand Mr. Clive; I don't believe any one does. In -the field he is as bold as a lion, fearless, quick to see what to -do at the moment, never losing a chance. Yet more than -once I've noticed, beforehand, a strange hesitation. He -gets fits of the dumps, broods, wonders whether he is doing -the right thing, and is as touchy as a bear with a sore head. -Well, 'tis almost noon; I must be off; we'll see what the -Council has to say."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond watched the Major almost with envy as he -went off to this momentous meeting. How he wished he -was a little older, a little higher in rank, so that he too might -have the right to attend! He lay back in the tent wondering -what the result of the Council would be. "If they asked -for my vote," he thought, "I'd say fight;" and then he -laughed at himself for venturing to have an opinion.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>By and by Major Killpatrick returned.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, my boy," he said, "we've carried our point--twelve -against seven!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"For fighting?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, my young firebrand; against fighting. You -needn't look so chopfallen. There'll be a fight before long; -but we're going to run no risks. We'll wait till the -monsoon is over and we can collect enough men to smash the -Subah."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Was that Colonel Clive's decision?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twas indeed. But let me tell you. There was a comical -thing to start with. Lieutenant Hayter, one of Watson's -men, was bid to the Council, but the nincompoop was -huffed because he wasn't allowed precedence of the -Company's captains. These naval men's airs are vastly -amusing. He took himself off. Then Mr. Clive put the -case; fight at once, or wait. Against the custom, he -voted himself first--against immediate action. Then he -asked me and Grant in turn; we voted with him. -'Twas Eyre Coote's turn next; he voted t'other way, -and gave his reasons--uncommonly well, I must admit. -He said our men were in good spirits, and had been -damped enough by the rains. The Frenchman Law -might come up and join the Nawab, and then every froggy -who entered our service after Chandernagore would -desert and fight against us. We're so far from Calcutta -that 'twould be difficult to protect our communications. -Those were his reasons. I watched Clive while Coote was -speaking; he stuck his lips together and stared at him; -and, have you noticed? he squints a trifle when he looks -hard. Well, the voting went on, and ended as I -said--twelve against immediate action, seven for."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did the Bengal men vote?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm bound to say, for--except Le Beaume. 'Twas -the Madras men who outvoted 'em."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, with all respect, sir, I think the opinion of the -Bengal men, who know the people and the country, ought -to have outweighed the opinion of strangers. Still, it -would be difficult to oppose Colonel Clive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Further conversation was cut short by the arrival -of a messenger summoning Desmond to attend the -colonel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Where is he?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Under a clump of trees beyond the camp, sir. He's -been there by himself an hour or more."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond hurried off. On the way he met Major Coote.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hullo, Burke," cried the major; "you've heard the news?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and I'm sorry for it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All smoke, my dear boy, all smoke. Colonel Clive has -been thinking it over, and has decided to disregard the -decision of the Council and cross the river at sunrise to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond could not refrain from flinging up his hat and -performing other antics expressive of delight; he was -caught in the act by Clive himself, who was returning to his -tent.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're a madcap, Burke," he said. "Come to my tent."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He employed Desmond during the next hour in writing -orders to the officers of his force. This consisted of about -900 Europeans, 200 topasses, a few lascars, and some 2,000 -sepoys. Eight six-pounders and two howitzers formed -the whole of the artillery. Among the Europeans were -about fifty sailors, some from the King's ships, some from -merchantmen. Among the latter were Mr. Toley and -Bulger, whose excellent service in capturing the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> -had enforced their request to be allowed to accompany -the little army.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Shortly before dawn on June 22 Clive's men began to -cross the river. The passage being made in safety, they -rested during the hot hours, and resumed their march in the -evening amid a heavy storm of rain, often having to wade -waist-high the flooded fields. Soon after midnight the -men, drenched to the skin, reached a mango-grove somewhat -north of the village of Plassey: and there, as they -lay down in discomfort to snatch a brief sleep before dawn, -they heard the sound of tom-toms and trumpets from the -Nawab's camp three miles away.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis a real comfort, that there noise," remarked Bulger, -as he stirred the camp-fire with his hook. Desmond had come -to bid him good-night. "Ay, true comfort to a sea-goin' -man like me. For why? 'Cos it makes me feel at home. -Why, I don't sleep easy if there en't some sort o' -hullabaloo--wind or wave, or, if ashore, cats a-caterwaulin'. No, -Mr. Subah, Nawab, or whatsomdever you call yourself, you -won't frighten Bill Bulger with your tum-tum-tumin'. I -may be wrong, Mr. Burke, which I never am, but there'll -be tum-tum-tum of another sort to-morrer."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The grove held by Clive's troops was known as the -Laksha Bagh--the grove of a hundred thousand trees. It was -nearly half a mile long and three hundred yards broad. A -high embankment ran all round it, and beyond this a weedy -ditch formed an additional protection against assault. A -little north of the grove, on the bank of the river Cossimbazar, -stood a stone hunting-box belonging to Siraj-uddaula. -Still farther north, near the river, was a quadrangular tank, -and beyond this a redoubt and a mound of earth. The -river there makes a loop somewhat like a horseshoe in shape, -and in the neck of land between the curves of the stream -the Nawab had placed his intrenched camp.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His army numbered nearly 70,000 men, of whom 50,000 -were infantry, armed with matchlocks, bows and arrows, -pikes and swords. He had in all fifty-three guns, mounted -on platforms drawn by elephants and oxen. The most -efficient part of his artillery was commanded by Monsieur -Sinfray, who had under him some fifty Frenchmen from -Chandernagore. The Nawab's vanguard consisted of 15,000 -men under his most trusty lieutenants, including Manik -Chand and Mir Madan. Rai Durlabh, the captor of Cossimbazar, -and two other officers commanded separate divisions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Dawn had hardly broken on June 23, King George's -birthday, when Mir Madan, with a body of picked troops, -7,000 foot, 5,000 horse, and Sinfray's artillery, moved out -to the attack with great clamour of trumpets and drums. -The remainder of the Nawab's army formed a wide arc -about the north and east of the English position. Nearest -to the grove was Mir Jafar's detachment. The English -were arranged in four divisions, under Majors Killpatrick, -Grant, and Coote, and Captain Gaupp. These had taken -position in front of the embankment, the guns on the left, the -Europeans in the centre, the sepoys on the right. Sinfray's -gunners occupied an eminence near the tank, about two -hundred yards in advance of the grove, and made such good -play that Clive, directing operations from the Nawab's -hunting-box, deemed it prudent to withdraw his men into -the grove, where they were sheltered from the enemy's fire. -The Nawab's troops hailed this movement with loud shouts, -of exultation, and, throwing their guns forward, opened -a still more vigorous cannonade, which, however, did -little damage.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If Mir Madan had had the courage and dash to order a -combined assault, there is very little doubt that he must -have overwhelmed Clive's army by sheer weight of -numbers. But he let the opportunity slip. Meanwhile Clive -had sent forward his two howitzers and two large guns to -check Sinfray's fire.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Midday came, and save for the cannonading no fighting -had taken place. Clive left the hunting-box, called his -officers together, and gave orders that they were to hold their -positions during the rest of the day and prepare to storm the -Nawab's camp at midnight. He was still talking to them -when a heavy shower descended, the rain falling in torrents -for an hour. Wet through, Clive hastened to the hunting-lodge -to change his clothes. Scarcely had he departed when -the enemy's fire slackened. Their ammunition, having -been left exposed, had been rendered almost entirely useless -by the rain. Fancying that the English gunners had been -equally careless, Mir Madan ordered his horse to charge; -but the Englishmen had kept their powder dry, and received -the cavalry with a deadly fire that sent them headlong -back. At this moment Mir Madan himself was killed by a -cannon-ball, and his followers, dismayed at his loss, began -a precipitate retreat to their entrenchments.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive was still absent. The sight of the enemy retreating -was too much for Major Killpatrick. Forgetting the order -to maintain his position, he thought the moment opportune -for a general advance. He turned to Desmond, who had -remained at his side all the morning, and said:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Burke, run off to Mr. Clive, and tell him the Moors are -retreating, and I am following up."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond hurried away, and reached the hunting-box -just as Clive had completed his change of clothes. He -delivered his message. Then for the first time he saw -Clive's temper at full blaze. With a passionate -imprecation he rushed from the lodge, and came upon the -gallant major just as he was about to lead his men to the -assault.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What the deuce do you mean, sir, by disobeying my -orders? Take your men back to the grove, and be quick -about it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>His tone stung like a whip. But Killpatrick had the -courage of his opinions, and Desmond admired the frank -manner in which he replied.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I beg a thousand pardons, Mr. Clive, for my breach of -orders, but I thought 'twas what you yourself, sir, would -have done had you been on the spot. If we can drive the -Frenchmen from that eminence yonder, we command the -field, sir, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You're right, sir," said Clive, his rage subsiding as -easily as it had arisen. "You're too far forward to retire -now. I'll lead your companies. Bring up the rest of the -men from the grove."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Placing himself at the head of two companies of grenadiers -he continued the advance. Sinfray did not wait the -assault. He hastily evacuated his position, retiring on the -redoubt near the Nawab's entrenchments. It was apparent -to Clive that the main body of the enemy was by this time -much demoralized, and he was eager to make a vigorous -attack upon them while in this state. But two circumstances -gave him pause. To advance upon the entrenchments -would bring him under a cross fire from the redoubt, and -he had sufficient respect for the Frenchmen to hesitate to -risk losses among his small body of men. Further, the -movements of the enemy's detachments on his right caused -him some uneasiness. He suspected that they were the -troops of Mir Jafar and Rai Durlabh, but he had no certain -information on that point, nor had he received a message -from them. He knew that Mir Jafar was untrustworthy, -therefore he was unwilling to risk a general assault until -assured that the troops on his flank were not hostile to him. -The doubt was suddenly resolved when he saw them check -their movement, retire, and draw apart from the remainder -of the Nawab's army. Giving the word at once to advance, -he led his men to storm the redoubt and the mound on -its right. For a short time Sinfray and his gallant -Frenchmen showed a bold front; but the vigorous onslaught of -the English struck fear into the hearts of his native allies; -the news that the Nawab had decamped completed their -panic, and then began a wild and disorderly flight: -horsemen galloping from the field; infantry scampering this -way and that; elephants trumpeting; camels screaming, -as they charged through the rabble. With British -cheers and native yells Clive's men poured into the Nawab's -camp, some dashing on in pursuit of the enemy, others -delaying to plunder the baggage and stores, of which -immense quantities lay open to their hand. By half-past -five on that memorable 23rd of June the battle was over--the -battle that gave Britain immediately the wealthiest -province of India and, indirectly, the mastery of the whole -of that vast Empire. The loss to the British was only -twenty-three killed and fifty wounded.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive rested for a while in Siraj-uddaula's tent, where he -found on his inkstand a list of thirteen courtiers whom, even -in that moment of dire extremity, the tyrant had condemned -to death. From a prisoner it was learnt that the Nawab -had escaped on a camel with two thousand horsemen, -fleeing towards Murshidabad. All day he had been in a -state of terror and agitation. Deprived of his bravest -officer, Mir Madan; betrayed by his own relatives; the -wretched youth had not waited for the critical -moment. Himself carried to his capital the news of his -defeat.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Orders were given to push on that night to Daudpur, -six miles north of Plassey. But some little time was -occupied by Clive's commissariat in replacing their -exhausted bullocks with teams captured in the Nawab's -camp. Meanwhile Clive sent Eyre Coote forward with a -small detachment to keep the enemy on the run. Among -those who accompanied him was Desmond, with Bulger -and Mr. Toley. Desmond hoped that he would overtake -and capture Monsieur Sinfray, from whom he thought it -likely he might wrest information about Mrs. Merriman -and her daughter. Diggle had made use of Sinfray's house; -it was not improbable that the Frenchman knew -something about the ladies. As for the seamen, they were so -much disgusted at the tameness of the enemy's resistance -that they were eager for anything that promised -activity and adventure. Their eagerness was no whit -diminished when Desmond mentioned what he had in his mind.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By thunder, sir," said Bulger, "give me the chanst, and -I'll larn the mounseer the why and wherefore of it. And as -for Diggle--well, I maybe wrong, but I'll lay my share o' -the prize money out o' the </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> that he's hatchin' -mischief, and not far off neither. Show a leg, mateys."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-thirtieth"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which Coja Solomon reappears; and gives -our hero valuable information.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Before Major Coote reached Daudpur he was overtaken -by a horseman bearing a message from Clive.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A job for you, Burke," said the major, after reading -the note. "Mr. Clive is annoyed at the Nawab's escape, -and thinks he may give us trouble yet if he can join hands -with Law and his Frenchmen. I am to send you ahead -to reconnoitre. You've been to Murshidabad, I think?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, only to Cossimbazar; but that is not far off."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, you know best part of the road, at any rate. -The colonel wants you to go with a small party to -Murshidabad and find out whether the Frenchmen have come -within reach. You'll have to go on foot; take care you -don't get into trouble. Pick your own men, of course. -You must have a rest first."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two or three hours will be enough for me. If we start -soon, we shall reach Murshidabad before dawn, and with -little risk. I'm to come back and report, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of course. No doubt you will meet us on the way."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On reaching Daudpur Desmond selected twenty sepoys -who knew the country, and ordered them to be ready to -start with him at midnight. Bulger and Mr. Toley he had -already informed of his mission, and he found them more -than eager to share in it. Just after midnight the little -party set out. A march of some four hours brought them -to the outskirts of Murshidabad. Desmond called a halt, -encamped for the remainder of the night in a grove of -palmyras, and at dawn sent forward one of the sepoys, -disguised as a ryot, to make inquiries as to what was -happening in the town.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was near midday when the man returned. He -reported that the Nawab had gone to his palace, while the -chiefs who had accompanied or followed him from the -field of battle had shown their recognition that his cause -was lost by deserting him and going to their own houses. -He had heard nothing of the French. The Nawab, in -order to ingratiate himself with the people, had thrown open -his Treasury, from which all and sundry were carrying off -what they pleased. The city was in such a disturbed state -that it would be exceedingly unsafe for any stranger to -enter.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond decided to remain where he was until nightfall, -and then to skirt the city and move northwards, in -the hope of learning something definite of the movements -of the French. Meanwhile he sent the man back to learn -if anything happened during the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In the evening the man returned again. This time he -reported that Mir Jafar had arrived with a large force and -taken possession of the Nawab's palace of Mansurganj. -Immediately after the traitor's arrival Siraj-uddaula had -collected all the gold and jewels on which he could lay -hands and fled with his women. Suspecting that the -luckless Nawab was making for Rajmahal in the hope of -meeting Law there, Desmond made up his mind to follow. He -struck his camp, marched all night, and soon after -daybreak reached a village near the river some miles south of -Rajmahal.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He was surprised to find the village deserted. But -passing a small house, he heard cries of distress, and going in -he found the place full of smoke from some straw that had -been kindled, and a man tied by his thumbs to a staple in -the wall. He recognized the man in a moment. It was -Coja Solomon, Mr. Merriman's rascally agent of Cossimbazar. -He was half dead with pain and fright. Desmond -cut him loose and hurried him out of the stifling room into -the open, where Bulger revived him with copious douches of -water until he was sufficiently recovered to explain his -unhappy plight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God be praised!" exclaimed the Armenian fervently. -"You were in time, sir. I was seeking safety. The -Faujdar of Murshidabad villainously ill-used me. He -owes me much, but there is no gratitude in him. I saw -that neither my life nor my goods were safe, so I packed -up what valuables I could and left with my servants, -intending to go to Patna, where I have a house. I had just -reached this village when I saw a band of some fifty -horsemen approaching from the other end, and fearing that I -might be set upon and plundered, I hastily concealed my -goods at the edge of the tank hard by. Alas! it availed -me nothing. My servants were dispersed, and the risaldar -of the horsemen, a European, seized me and thrust me into -this house, abandoned like all the rest, for the people fled -before his approach, fearing he would burn and destroy. -Then I was tied up as you saw, until I confessed where my -valuables were hidden: one of my servants must have -betrayed me. The risaldar promised to release me as soon -as I should confess; but instead of that he set fire to the -straw out of pure villainy, for what could I do to him? -I have been a good friend to the English. Sir, pursue that -man: he must be a Frenchman. I will give you a quarter, -nay, a third of my goods, if you recover them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That is impossible, Khwaja. I've only twenty men -on foot: what is the use of pursuing fifty on horseback? -Your friendship for the British has come, I fear, a little -too late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Armenian wrung his hands in despair, whining that -he was a ruined man. Then his tone changed; was there -not still a chance? He explained that, some hours before -his capture, he had met a man who recognized him as the -agent of Mr. Merriman. The man said that he was a -servant of Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti, and was on his way -to meet Clive Sahib, carrying a letter to him from his master. -But he was worn out, having come many miles through the -heat without rest. Coja Solomon unblushingly confessed -that, while the man slept at midday, he had taken the -letter from him and read it.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why did you do that?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I thought it would be safer with me, for every one -knows----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, that'll do, Khwaja; go on with your story."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The letter was written at Manda, a village on the other -side of the river, and the writer, Surendra Nath, informed -Mr. Clive that the wife and daughter of Mr. Merriman were -in his house there, and asked him to send a party to bring -them away. Naturally, sir, I was pleased to find----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Go on with your story," cried Desmond impatiently, -all excitement at coming upon the track of the ladies at -last.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was while I was reading the letter that the horsemen -came up. The risaldar took it from me, read it, and -questioned me. His face changed; he smiled evilly, and from -the questions he asked me, and from what I heard him say -to his followers, he has gone to Manda, with a design to take -these ladies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Stay, Khwaja; what was he like?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was a tall man, with scars on his face, and on his -right hand he wore a black glove."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Desmond. His look of -trouble and anxiety did not escape the Armenian.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is but a little since he left me," he said. "If you -make your way to the village--it is three coss on the other -side of the river--you may capture him, sir, as well as -regain my property, a third of which is yours."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But how--how, man?" cried Desmond impatiently. -"How can we overtake him on foot?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He will have to ride near to Rajmahal to find a ford, -sir. He will cross there, and ride back down the river -some five coss before he comes to Manda."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"But could he not swim the river?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He could, sir, but it is a feat he is not likely to attempt, -seeing that there is no need for haste. I implore you, sir, -start at once. Otherwise I am a ruined man; my old age -will be spent in poverty and distress."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If he cannot cross, how can I?" said Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There is sure to be a boat on the bank, sir, unless they -have all been seized by the Nawab, who, rumour says, is -coming from Bhagwangola by river to Rajmahal."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond felt uneasy and perplexed. He doubted -whether his duty to Clive did not forbid him to go in search -of the ladies, and there was no possibility of communicating -in time with either Clive or Coote. Then it suddenly -occurred to him that pursuit of Diggle might well come -within his duty. Diggle was in the service of the Nawab; -it was possible that he was even leading an advance -guard of Law's Frenchmen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Were there any other Europeans besides the risaldar -among the horsemen?" he asked.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Two, sahib, and they were French. I suspect they -were from the force of Law Sahib; he was, I know, at -Patna a few days ago."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond hesitated no longer. His affection for -Mr. Merriman prompted an attempt to save the ladies: his -mission from Clive was to discover the movements of the -French. If he set off on Diggle's track he might succeed in -both. It was a risky adventure--to pursue fifty men under -such a leader as Diggle, with only a score. But twice -before he had tried conclusions with Diggle and come off -best: why should fortune fail him the third time?</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Hurriedly explaining the situation to Mr. Toley and -Bulger, he hastened with his men down to the river. There -was no boat at the village ghat. He looked anxiously up -and down. On the opposite side he saw a long river-boat -moored in a narrow backwater. He could only get it by -swimming, and here the current ran so swiftly that to swim -would be dangerous. Yet, on the spur of the moment, he -was preparing to take to the water himself when one of his -men, a slim and active sepoy, volunteered to go.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good! I will give you ten rupees if you bring the -boat across. You are a good swimmer?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The sahib will see," replied the man, with a salaam -and a smile.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He took a kedgeree pot, an earthen vessel used for cooking, -and firmly tied to it a stout bamboo some six feet long, -so that the thicker end of the pole was even with the mouth -of the vessel. The boat was slightly down the stream. -The man ran a little way up stream to a point where a spit -of land jutted out into the river, his companions following -quickly with the pot. This they placed mouth downwards -in the water. Then the sepoy mounted on top, launched -himself on this novel buoy, and, holding on to the pole, -floated breast high in the water down with the current, -dexterously steering himself with his legs to the point -where the boat was moored. He clambered into it, and -with rapid movements of the stern oar brought it to the -other side, receiving with beaming face the promised -reward.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While this was going on the sky had been darkening. A -north-wester was coming up, and after his experience on the -eve of Plassey, Desmond knew what that meant. He -hastily embarked his men, and the boat started; but it -had scarcely covered a third of the distance across the -river when the wind struck it. Fortunately the sail was -not up: as it was, the flat-bottomed boat was nearly -swamped. Drenching rain began to fall. The river was -lashed to fury: for three crowded minutes it seemed to -Desmond a miracle that the boat was still afloat. The -waves dashed over its sides; the men, blinded by the rain, -were too much cowed to attempt to bale out. Desmond -was at the helm; Bulger and Toley had an oar each; -although only a few yards distant, Desmond could scarcely -see them through the pelting rain. Then the wind moderated -somewhat: he peremptorily ordered the men to use -their brass lotis[#] to bale out the boat, and determined to -turn the storm to account.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="noindent pfirst"><span class="small">[#] Drinking vessels.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With great difficulty he got the sail hoisted, and their -the vessel ran down the river at racing speed. The -distance to Manda, as the Armenian had told him, was six -miles--four by river, two by land. By Diggle's route it -was ten miles. The horsemen had had such a start of him -that he feared he could not overtake them in time. Still -the storm that now helped him would hinder them. If he -survived the perils of the river passage, he might even yet -succeed. He was alive to the risks he ran. More than -once, as the wind changed a point, it seemed that the -cranky craft must turn turtle. But she escaped again -and again, plunging on her headlong course. The sepoys -were sturdy enough fellows, but being unused to the water -they cowered in the bottom of the boat, except when -Desmond's stern command set them frantically baling. -Almost before it seemed possible they came in sight of a bend -in the river, which one of the men, who knew the district, -had described to Desmond as the nearest point to the -village he sought. So rapid had the passage been that -Desmond felt that, if they could only land in safety, they -might have gained considerably on Diggle's horsemen. -The latter must have felt the full effect of the gale: it was -likely that for a time they had taken shelter. Desmond -and his men were wet to the skin, but, profiting by the -recollection of what had happened at Plassey, they had -kept their ammunition dry.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the bend the river presented a shelving beach, being -at least twice as wide at this point during the rainy season -as at other periods. Without hesitation Desmond ran -the nose of the boat straight at the beach: she came to -with a violent bump; the men tumbled out waist-deep -into the water, and with shrill cries of relief scrambled -ashore.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>No time was lost. Waiting only to inspect their muskets, -Desmond at once began the march, the band being led by -the man who knew the country. Another man, a noted -runner, formerly a kasid in the employment of the Nawab -of the Dekkan, was sent in advance to find Surendra Nath's -house, give him warning of Desmond's coming, and instruct -him to have some one on the look-out for the approach of -the enemy, if Diggle was not indeed already in possession -of the village. The rest pushed on with all speed. The -storm had cleared the air: the rain had ceased; and though -it was unpleasant walking over the soppy ground, the -march was much cooler than it had been earlier in the day.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond longed for a hill from which to get a view of -the country; but, as almost everywhere in the valley of -the Ganges, it was dead flat. The party was within a -quarter-mile of the village when the kasid came running -back. He had found the Babu's house. From its flat -roof a body of horse had been seen in the distance, nearly a -coss away. Desmond at once ordered his men to double, -and as they dashed into the village among the wondering -people the kasid pointed out Surendra Nath's house at the -far end--a small two-storied building, surrounded by a wall -and approached through a rickety iron gateway. It was -the first house to which the approaching horsemen would -come.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A man in native dress was standing at the gate. At first -Desmond did not recognize him, but as he drew nearer he -saw that it was Surendra Nath himself, looking years -older--weak, thin, sunken-eyed, little like the sleek well-fed -Babu Desmond had last seen in Calcutta.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Are the ladies safe?" asked Desmond, yards ahead of -his men.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, sir, quite safe," replied Surendra Nath, trembling.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank God for that! Go in, Babu; tell them we are -here to protect them."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While speaking he had eagerly scanned the surroundings. -On each side of the sodden track that did duty for a road -there was a mango grove. Desmond directed Toley to -take four men to one side, and Bulger four men to the other, -and place themselves among the trees. When the first -three files of the horsemen should have passed through, -the seamen were to give the word to fire; then, taking -advantage of the inevitable confusion, to rush with their -men to the house. Desmond himself meanwhile, with the -remaining twelve, set to work to strengthen the defences. -These proceedings were watched with amazement by the -villagers, who, men, women, and children, stood in groups, -discussing in shrill tones the movements of these energetic -strangers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>There was a small veranda to the house. This was -wrenched away by main force. The posts and other parts -of the woodwork were carried to the gateway and piled up -as rapidly as possible to form a rough barricade. Scarcely -was this task half accomplished when the clanking of -weapons was heard in the distance, soon accompanied by -the swashing of horses' hoofs on the drenched soil. -Desmond coolly ordered his men to proceed with the work. A -minute later there was a sharp discharge of musketry, -followed by cries, shouts, and the sound of galloping horses. -The villagers scuttled away shrieking. Immediately -afterwards Bulger and Toley with their eight men sprang from -cover and made a dash for the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Muskets first!" shouted Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The muskets were pitched over: then the men scrambled -up, Desmond and his sepoys assisting them to get across. -Almost the first to drop down into the compound was -Bulger, whose hook had proved, not for the first time, of -more service than a sound left arm. Once over himself, -he used his hook to haul the sepoys after him, with many a -vigorous "Yo heave ho!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All aboard, sir," he cried, when the last of the men was -within the wall. "I may be wrong, but I lay my button-hook -'tis now all hands to repel boarders; and only two -cutlasses among us--mine and Mr. Toley's. Howsomdever, -notwithstandin', and which is all the same!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond ordered four of his men to post themselves -at the barricaded gateway: the rest he divided into two -parties, and stationed behind the wall at each side. The -wall was six feet high--too high to fire over--but as it was -in a somewhat dilapidated condition there was no difficulty -in knocking away several loose bricks at intervals, -so as to make a rough-and-ready battlement. Desmond -instructed the men to fire alternately through the -embrasures thus made. As soon as one had fired he was to -fall back and reload as fast as possible while another man -took his place. By this device, Desmond hoped to deceive -the enemy for a time as to the numbers of the defenders in -the compound.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But it was not to be expected that the enemy could long -be kept out, and in the last resort it would be necessary to -retreat to the house. In view of the presence of the ladies -this was a step to be avoided if possible. It might indeed -be the wiser course to surrender for their sakes. As the -thought struck Desmond he called to the Babu, who was -keeping watch on the roof.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Babu," he said, "ask the ladies to occupy the -least-exposed room. Tell them that if the enemy get over the -wall I will try to make an arrangement with them, rather -than provoke an attack on the house."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Babu disappeared. But a few moments later -Phyllis Merriman, wearing the costume of a native lady -came running out.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mother bids me say, Mr. Burke," she said, "on no -account let such considerations weigh with you. She says -fight to the last. We will risk anything rather than go -back to captivity. You will beat them, Mr. Burke, won't -you?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I will do my best, Miss Merriman," replied Desmond. -"But pray go back; they may be here at any moment. I -need not say how glad I am to find you well. Pray tell -Mrs. Merriman that we will all do our best for her and you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know you will. And my father?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He is distressed, of course, but clings to hope. Do, -Miss Merriman, retire at once. I see the enemy coming -from the grove."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Phyllis! Phyllis!" cried Mrs. Merriman from the -house; "come in at once! Mr. Burke, send her in. Have -no mercy on the wretches, I implore you."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The girl walked back reluctantly. Unknown to Desmond, -she went no further than the doorway, where, just -hidden from sight, she watched all that followed.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The enemy had clearly been nonplussed by their sudden -check. There were no British troops, so far as they knew, -for many miles round, and concerted resistance from the -natives was unlikely. But they were now emerging from -the mango grove, a hundred yards away. They came on -foot, leaving their horses out of musket range. Desmond's -heart sank as he counted them. There were even more -than he had supposed. They numbered fifty-four, and -several had no doubt been left in charge of the horses. Still -he felt that he had two advantages. The first was his -position behind a wall; the second, the fact that the enemy, -unless they had obtained information from the villagers, -could not know what force they had to deal with. Their -ignorance of course must be only temporary; if one of them -should succeed in mounting the wall the weakness of the -defence must immediately be seen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As the enemy, tall men in the costume of native cavalry, -assembled by twos and threes at the edge of the grove -Desmond noticed three Europeans leave the main body and -advance some way into the open. It was with a flush of -indignation and a fierce resolve to bring him at last to book -that Desmond recognized one of them as Diggle. With his -companions he walked at a safe distance completely round -the building. For some time they halted at the back, -carefully scanning the position. Here the wall approached -the house much more closely than in the front, and no one -could mount it without being fully exposed to fire from the -upper windows. After his examination, Diggle returned -with the two men, whom from their appearance Desmond -judged to be Frenchmen, to the main body, and sent off half -a dozen men towards the other end of the village. While -they were gone one of the Frenchmen seemed to Desmond -to be expostulating with Diggle; but the latter only laughed -and waved his gloved hand in the direction of the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The messengers soon returned, dragging with them three -of the villagers. These Diggle took aside separately and -questioned: it was clear to Desmond that he was ascertaining -the strength of the garrison. Apparently satisfied, he -divided his force into three parts; the largest, consisting of -some forty men, remained at the edge of the grove; the -two smaller proceeded to the right and left of the back of -the house. One was in command of a Frenchman, but the -Frenchman who had expostulated with Diggle had apparently -refused to have anything to do with the affair: he -held himself aloof, and by and by disappeared into the -grove. Diggle's evident intention was to weaken the -garrison by forcing Desmond to divide his already too -small force. He had to detach eight of his men--three to -the windows and five to the wall; leaving only fourteen, -including Bulger and Toley, to meet the rush in front.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>It was not long in coming. Diggle did not wait to parley. -Taking a musket from one of his men he raised it to his -shoulder and fired at a sepoy whose head just showed above -the gate. The man raised his hand to his brow and fell back -with a sharp cry--a bullet had ploughed a furrow through -his scalp. Desmond checked his men as they were about to -fire in reply; but when, in the rush that followed, the enemy -came within thirty yards, he gave the word, and seven -muskets flashed forth across the barricade. The attacking -party were coming forward in close order, and five of the -men fell. But the rest sprang forward with shrill yells, -Diggle, who was untouched, urging them on. Even the fire -of Desmond's second rank failed to check them. Two or -three dropped; others were soon swarming up the wall, and -though the defenders with clubbed muskets struck savagely -at their heads and hands as they appeared above the coping, -if one drew back, another took his place; and the wall was -so long that at several points there were gaps between -Desmond's sepoys where the enemy could mount unmolested.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond, having discharged his two pistols, disposing -of one of the assailants with each shot, was in the act of -reloading when Diggle leapt into the compound, followed by -two of his men. Shouting to Bulger, Desmond threw the -pistols and rammer on the ground behind him, and, -drawing his sword, dashed at the three intruders, who were -slightly winded by the charge and their exertions in scaling -the wall.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond could never afterwards remember the details of -the crowded moments that followed. There were cries all -around him: behind, the strident voice of Mr. Toley was -cheering his men to repel the assault at the back of the -house; at his side Bulger was bellowing like a bull of -Bashan. But all this was confused noise to him, for his -attention was wholly occupied with his old enemy. His -first lunge at Diggle was neatly parried, and the two, -oblivious of all that was happening around them, looked -and into each other's eyes, read grim determination there, -and fought with a cold fury that meant death to the first -that gave an opening to his opponent's sword.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>If motive counted, if the right cause could always win, -the issue admitted of no doubt. Desmond had a heavy -score to pay off. From the time when he had met Diggle -in the street at Market Drayton to his last encounter with -him at the Battle of the Carts, he had been the mark of -his enmity, malice, spite, trickery. But Desmond thought -less of his own wrongs than of the sorrow of his friend -Mr. Merriman, and the harrowing wretchedness which must -have been the lot of the ladies while they were in Diggle's -power. The man had brought misery into so many lives -that it would be a good deed if, in the fortune of war, -Desmond's sword could rid the world of him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>And Diggle, on his side, was nerved by the power of hate. -Baseless as were his suspicions of Desmond's friendship with -Sir Willoughby Stokes, he felt that this boy was an obstacle. -Ever since their paths had crossed he had been conscious -that he had to do with a finer, nobler nature than his own; -and Desmond's courage and skill had again and again -frustrated him. As he faced him now, it was with the -feeling that, if this boy were killed, a most dangerous barrier -to the realisation of his nefarious schemes would be removed. -Thus, on either side, it was war to the death. What -Desmond lacked in skill and experience he made up for -by youth and strength. The two combatants were thus -equally matched: a grain in the scale might decide the -issue. But the longer the fight lasted the better were -Desmond's chances. He had youth in his favour. Thanks -in large measure to Diggle himself, Desmond had led a -hard life: his muscles were like iron. The older man by -and by began to flag: more than once his guard was -nearly beaten down: nothing but his great skill in -swordsmanship and the coolness that never deserted him saved -him from the sharp edge of Desmond's blade.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But when he seemed almost at the end of his strength, -fortune suddenly befriended him. Bulger, with his clubbed -musket and terrible iron hook, had disposed of the two men -who leapt with Diggle into the compound; but there were -others behind them: three men dropped to the ground close -by, and, making a simultaneous rush, bore Bulger back -against Desmond, hampering his sword arm. One of -Desmond's sepoys sprang to the rescue, but he was too late -to stem the tide. A blow from a musket stock disabled -Bulger's right arm; he lost his footing. As he fell, his -hook, still active, caught Diggle's leg and brought him to -the ground, just as, taking advantage of the diversion, he -was making exultantly what he intended for a final lunge -at Desmond. He fell headlong, rolling over Bulger, who -was already on the ground.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>How the end came Desmond did not clearly see. He -knew that he was beset by three of Diggle's men, and, -falling back before them, he heard the voice of Phyllis -Merriman close by, and felt a pistol thrust into his hand. -She had slipped out of the doorway, picked up the weapons -as they lay where Desmond had flung them, completed -the loading, and advanced fearlessly into the thick of the -fray. At one and the same moment Desmond fired upon -his enemies and implored the brave girl to go back. Then -suddenly there was a lull in the uproar. Bulger was upon -his feet, Diggle's men paused in their fighting and gazed in -consternation at their prostrate leader. It seemed but a -moment; then every man of them was scrambling pell-mell -over the wall, yelling as the stocks of the sepoys' -muskets sped them on their flight.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What is it?" asked Desmond.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger pointed to the form of Diggle, lying huddled among -the fallen.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He've gone to his account, sir, which I may be wrong, -but the Almighty have got a long black score agen him."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"How did it happen?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Bulger lifted his hook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Twas that there Diggle as was the why and wherefore -o' this little ornament, sir, and 'twas only right he should -be paid for what he done. We fell down, him and me; -I was under. He hoisted himself on his hands to get free, -and I lifted my hook, sir, and caught him a blow under the -chin. If it didn't break his neck, sir, my name en't Bill -Bulger, which I'm sorry for his poor wicked soul all the same."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Phyllis had her hands clasped about Desmond's arm.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Is he dead?" she asked in a voice of awe.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Come away," said Desmond quietly, leading her -towards the house. "Let us find your mother."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-thirty-first"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which friends meet, and part; and our -hero hints a proposal.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The fight was over. It was Diggle's quarrel; neither the -Frenchmen nor the natives had any concern in it, and -when their leader was dead they had no more interest in -continuing the struggle. They drew off; the weary -defenders collected the dead and attended to the wounded; -and Desmond went into the house.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"God bless you, Mr. Burke!" said Mrs. Merriman, tears -streaming from her eyes as she met him and clasped his -hands. "You are not hurt?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Just a scratch or two, ma'am; nothing to trouble about."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>But the ladies insisted on bathing the two slight wounds -on head and arm which in the heat of the fight he had not -noticed. And then Mrs. Merriman told him all that had -happened since the day he left them in such merry spirits -at Khulna. How they had been trapped by Diggle, -pretending to be a Monsieur de Bonnefon: how he had -conveyed them to the house of his friend Sinfray: how after -many months their whereabouts had been revealed to -Surendra Nath by one of his numerous relatives, a man -who had a distant cousin among Sinfray's servants: how -the Babu, displaying unwonted energy, had come with a -number of friends and fallen unawares upon their captors, -afterwards taking them to a house of his father's in this -village: how the old man and his son had both been stricken -with jungle fever and the father died, and when the Babu -lay helpless and unconscious on his sick bed they had found -no means of communicating with their friends. Mrs. Merriman -shuddered as she spoke of the terrors of their captivity. -They had been well treated, indeed; Monsieur de -Bonnefon, or Diggle, as she afterwards learned to call him, -had visited them several times and seen that their wants -were supplied. But their enforced seclusion and -inactivity, their dread of the unknown, their uncertainty as -to what might have befallen Mr. Merriman, had told heavily -upon their health and spirits. Rumour brought news of -the tragedy of the Black Hole: they heard that the few -survivors were prisoners of the Nawab, and they feared -the worst. From Surendra Nath they learnt that they -need not despair; and since then they had lived on in the -hope that when the Babu had recovered from his illness, -he would find some means of restoring them to the husband -and father from whom they had so long been parted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Surendra Nath has a heart of gold, Mr. Burke," said -Mrs. Merriman in concluding her story. "Poor man! he -has been very ill. We must do something to show our -gratitude for his devotion when we get back to Calcutta."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond then in his turn told them all that had -happened since their disappearance. When they learnt of the -result of the battle of Plassey and that Clive was marching -towards Murshidabad, they were eager to set off at once.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, ma'am," said Desmond, "we will start as soon as -we can. I will leave you to make your preparations. It -may not be possible to start before night, the country being -so disturbed, so that if you can sleep through the day you -will be fitter for the journey."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He left them, and going into the compound found Bulger -and Toley looking with curiosity at the body of Diggle.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Hi, sir!" said Bulger as Desmond came up to them; -"this here bit o' velvet is explained at last. Mr. Toley -he slit it with his cutlass, sir, and never did I see a man so -down in the mouth when he knowed what was under it. -Ten't nothing at all, sir; just three letters; and what for he -went and burnt them three letters into the back of his hand -'twould beat a Daniel to explain. 'Fur,' sir, that's what -they spells; but whether 'tis rabbit-skin or fox I can't -say, though 'tis most likely fox, knowin' the man."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond stooped and looked at the unclad right hand. -The letters FUR were branded livid below the knuckles.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was always quoting Latin, Bulger," he said. "Fur -is a Latin word: it means 'thief'."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Which I might have knowed it, sir, only I think as -how the man what did the stampin' might have done it in -plain English. I don't hold with these foreign lingos, -sir; there allers seems something sly and deceivin' about -'em. No right man 'ud ever think 'fur' meant 'thief'! -Thief an' all, sir, he's dead. Mr. Toley and me 'll put him -away decent like: and it won't do him no harm if we just -says 'Our Father' over the grave."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was turning away when three of his men came -into the compound, two grasping a Frenchman by the -arms, the third a black boy. The former Desmond -recognized as the man whom he had seen expostulating with -Diggle; the latter was Scipio Africanus, looking scared -and miserable. The men explained that, pursuing the -fugitives, they had captured their prisoners in the grove. -The Frenchman at once addressed Desmond in broken -English. He said that he had tried in vain to dissuade -Diggle from his attempt to capture the ladies. The party -had been sent by Monsieur Law to announce his coming. -He was advancing from Patna with a considerable body -of French troops designed for the support of the Nawab. -As he was speaking the Frenchman caught sight of Diggle's -exposed hand. He started, with an exclamation of -surprise. Then in answer to Desmond's question he revealed -the secret that had so long perplexed him.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Seven years before, he said, in December, 1750, there -was a brilliant foreigner named Peloti among the officers -of Major de la Touche, a young soldier who had been singled -out by Dupleix, the French Governor of Pondicherry, as -a military genius of the first order. Peloti was with the -French army when, less than 4,000 in number, it fell upon -the vast hordes of Nadir Jang near Gingi, and won the -battle that set Muzaffar Jang on the throne of the Dekkan and -marked the zenith of Dupleix's success. The new Nawab, -in gratitude to the French for the services rendered him, -sent to Dupleix a present of a million rupees, and a casket -of jewels worth half as much again. This casket was given -to Peloti to deliver: he had abused his trust by abstracting -the gem of the collection, a beautiful diamond; and the theft -being accidently discovered, Dupleix in his rage ordered -the thief to be branded on the right hand with the word -'fur,' and drummed him out of the French employment. -For some years nothing more had been seen of Peloti; -but he had recently returned, and offered his services to -Bussy, the French commander in the Dekkan. He brought -with him valuable information, gained in London, of the -East India Company's intentions; and this, together with his -evident knowledge of Clive's movements and of affairs in -Calcutta, had caused his former offence to be overlooked, -and his offer was accepted.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond thanked the Frenchman for his information. -"I am sorry to keep you a prisoner, monsieur," he said; -"but I must trouble you to return with me to Murshidabad. -I can promise you good treatment from Colonel Clive."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Frenchman smiled, shrugged, and exclaimed: "Eh -bien! À la guerre comme à la guerre!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Remembering Coja Solomon, Desmond asked Toley to -search Diggle's body before burying it. But nothing was -found, except a little money. The Armenian's property -had evidently been left under guard in the grove, and was -doubtless by this time far away, in the possession of one -or other of Diggle's runagate followers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond was collecting his party, preparatory to starting -for Murshidabad, when a native horseman rode into the -village at full speed, dismounted, and, humbly salaaming, -announced that he had a message from Law Sahib. It was -clear that, seeing Europeans, he supposed them to be -Frenchmen. Desmond did not undeceive him. The man said -that Law Sahib had received news of Clive Sahib's victory -at Plassey, and, seeing that his promised assistance to the -Nawab was too late, had at once retired to Patna and wished -Diggle Sahib to rejoin him there. Dismissing the messenger, -Desmond rejoiced that there was no reason now to delay -his departure; his mission for Clive was fulfilled.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At nightfall the party set off. Closed chairs had been -provided for the ladies, and these were carried in the midst, -Bulger on one side, Toley on the other, and Desmond -behind. One person whom Desmond had expected to take -with him was absent: Scipio Africanus, on seeing the dead -body of his master, had uttered one heart-rending howl -and fled. No attempt was made to pursue him; and -Desmond never saw him again. He reflected that, villainous -as Diggle had proved to be, he had at least been able -to win the affection of his servant.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>On the way they met Coja Solomon, who, on learning of -the disappearance of his valuables, heaped abuse upon -Desmond and went away wringing his hands.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Travelling slowly, by easy stages, and only in the cooler -hours, it took the party three days to reach Murshidabad. -Desmond found that Clive had entered the city two days -before and taken up his abode at the Murad Bagh. Mir -Jafar had been accepted as Nawab, and nothing had been -heard of Siraj-uddaula. Desmond first sought out Major -Coote.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"By George, Burke!" said that officer, "Colonel Clive -is in a towering rage at your long absence; he expected -your return long ago. And you ought to know that -Colonel Clive in a rage is not quite as mild as milk."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I'm afraid I must brave his anger," said Desmond. -"I've found Mr. Merriman's ladies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You have?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes, and brought them back with me. And Peloti -will trouble us no more: we had to fight for the ladies, and -Bulger killed him. Won't Mr. Clive forgive me?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I can't answer for Mr. Clive; no one can say what he -will do. But I tell you one thing: you'll put Warren -Hastings' nose out of joint. You knew he was sweet on -Merriman's daughter?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, I didn't know it. I don't see what that has to do -with me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't you, egad!" said Coote with a laugh. "Sure, -my boy, you'll see it before long. Well, I won't keep you -to hear your story. Go to Mr. Clive at once, and let me -know what happens."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond found Clive in company with Mr. Watts and -Rai Durlabh, Mr. Scrafton and Omichand. He had some -difficulty in obtaining admittance; only his representation -that he bore important news prevailed with the darwan. -He learnt afterwards that the great bankers, the -Seths, had just left the meeting, after it had been proved -that, owing to the depletion of the treasury, only one -half of the immense sums promised to Clive and the -English in Mir Jafar's treaty could be paid at once, the -remainder to follow in three years. Desmond entered the -room just in time to hear Clive say to Scrafton:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It is now time to undeceive Omichand."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Scrafton went up to the Sikh, and said quietly in -Hindustani:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Omichand, the red paper is a trick; you are to have -nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Omichand stood for a moment dazed: then he fell back -in a faint and was carried by his attendants from the room. -The shock had unhinged the poor man's reason: he -lingered insane for eighteen months and died.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>At the time Desmond knew nothing of the deceit that -had been practised on him; but in the light of his after -knowledge he understood the strange expression that -clouded Clive's face as the old man was carried away: a -look of pity mingled with contempt. Catching sight of -Desmond, the great soldier flashed out:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"What do you mean, sir, by absenting yourself -so long? I sent you in advance because I thought -you would be speedy. A snail would have gone more -quickly."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I am sorry, sir," said Desmond. "I was unexpectedly -delayed. I had got nearly as far as Rajmahal when I -learnt the whereabouts of Mrs. Merriman. She was in -hiding with Surendra Nath, one of Mr. Merriman's men. -I heard that Diggle--Peloti, sir--was about to attempt -her recapture, and I felt that you yourself, had you been -in my place, would have tried to save the ladies."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive grunted. "Go on, sir," he said.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"We found the place, just in time, sir. Diggle came -up with a couple of Frenchmen and a troop of native -horse. We beat them off, and I have brought the ladies -here."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And forgotten your instructions?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"No, sir. Monsieur Law was advancing from Patna: -Peloti was coming ahead to inform the Nawab of his -approach. But the whole country knows of your victory; -the news reached Monsieur Law, and he at once turned -back. The messenger he sent to inform Peloti of his -change of plan came too late."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Indeed! What was Peloti about?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He was killed in the fight, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A good riddance!" exclaimed Clive impetuously. -Then a far-away look came into his eyes; his expression -softened. "Poor wretch!" he said in an undertone. -"How many did his men muster, Burke?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Nearly sixty, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"And yours?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A score of sepoys, sir; but I had two seamen with me: -Bulger, whom you know; and Mr. Toley, an American, -mate of one of Mr. Merriman's ships. They were worth a -dozen others."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Clive grunted again.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, go and tell Mrs. Merriman I'll be glad to wait -on her. And look here, Burke: you may consider yourself -a captain in the Company's service from this day. Come -now, I'm very busy: go and give Mrs. Merriman my -message, and take care that next time you are sent on special -service you are not drawn off on any such mad expedition. -Come to me to-morrow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond trod on air as he left the house. Clive's -impulsiveness had never before seemed to him such an admirable -quality.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>As he went into the street he became aware from the -excited state of the crowd that something had happened. -Meeting a sepoy he inquired, and learnt that Siraj-uddaula -had just been brought into the city. The luckless Nawab -had arrived in his boat close to Rajmahal, and, with the -recklessness that characterized him, he had gone ashore -while his servants prepared a meal. Though disguised in -mean clothes he had been recognized by a fakir who -happened to be at the very spot where he landed. The man -had a grudge against him; his ears and nose had been cut -off some time before by the Nawab's orders. Hastening -into Rajmahal he had informed the governor, who sent -a guard at once to seize the unhappy prince and bring him -to Murshidabad.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before the next morning dawned Siraj-uddaula was -dead. Mir Jafar handed him to his son Miran with strict -orders to guard him carefully. Acting on a mocking -suggestion of Miran, a courtier named Muhammad Beg took -a band of armed men to the Nawab's room, and hacked him -to death. Next morning his mutilated body was borne on -an elephant's back through the streets, and it was known -to his former subjects that the prince who had ruled them -so evilly was no more. Such was the piteous end, in his -twenty-sixth year, of Siraj-uddaula.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Immediately on arriving in Murshidabad, Desmond had -sent a kasid to Calcutta to inform Mr. Merriman that his -wife and daughter had been found and were safe. The -merchant set off at once on horseback and arrived in the -midst of preparations for the return of the army to -Calcutta. Desmond was present at his meeting with the -ladies; the scene brought a lump into his throat, and his -embarrassment was complete when one and all -overwhelmed him with praise and thanks.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Nor was Surendra Nath forgotten. His readiness and -courage at the critical moment had undoubtedly saved -the ladies; Mr. Merriman declared that he would henceforth -have a higher opinion of the Bengali character. The -Babu beamed with joy when his employer announced that -he would give him the </span><em class="italics">Hormuzzeer</em><span> and a considerable part -of his business.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I change the name to </span><em class="italics">Merriman</em><span>, sir," he said, "and -my family will hold that name in veneration and esteem -unto third and fourth generations."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A few days later a long procession of three hundred -boats, laden with the money, plate and jewels that had been -handed over to the British, set off with colours flying, -amid strains of martial music, down the river to Calcutta. -Every man who had taken part in the expedition had a -share of the vast treasure. Desmond found himself richer -by £3,000.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Calcutta was </span><em class="italics">en fête</em><span> when the expedition returned. -Desmond was surprised to see how much had already been -done to repair the ruin wrought by the Nawab. A new -city was rising from the ruins. Congratulations were poured -on the victors; and though now, as always, Clive had to -contend with the jealousies of lesser men, there was none -but had to admit that he was a great man who deserved -well of his country.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Merriman at once completed the winding up of his -affairs, begun months before. His recent troubles had -much aged him; India was to him now a hateful country, -and he decided to return to England immediately with his -wife and daughter. He tried to persuade Desmond to -accompany him, but in vain.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"'Tis very good of you, sir," said Desmond warmly; -"you have done so much for me. But Mr. Clive has made -me a captain: his work is not yet done, and I do not feel -that I can leave him until I have done something to justify -his confidence in me."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well, boys will be boys. I have made a fortune here: -I suppose you want to do the same. 'Tis natural. But -don't stay in India as long as I have. I don't want to lose -sight of you. You have done me the best service man -ever did: you have avenged my brother and restored to -me all that I held dearest in the world. I love you as a son, -Desmond; I wish you were my son indeed, my boy."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond looked a little uncomfortable.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"May I venture----" he began hesitatingly; "do you -think, in some years time, if I get on here, I might----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Well?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Do you think I might--in short, that I might have -a chance of becoming your son, sir?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Eh? Is that it? Mr. Warren Hastings asked me the -same question the other day, Desmond. You can't both -have her, you know. What does Phyllis say?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I--I haven't asked her, sir."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Quite right. You're only a boy. Well, Hastings is -to remain as assistant to Mr. Scrafton, our new agent at -Murshidabad. You remain as assistant--or is it rival, -eh?--to Mr. Clive. You're both out of the way. Phyllis -may prefer Bulger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Bulger!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Yes. Didn't you know? Phyllis has taken a fancy -to him; that hook of his appears to be a most fascinating -feature; and he will accompany us home."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond laughed a little awkwardly.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I hope----" he began.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"He won't hook her? But there, I mustn't make sport -of such a serious matter. Go on as you have begun, my -dear lad, and I promise you, when you come home, that if -Phyllis hasn't found some one already to her liking, you -shall have all the influence I can exert with the minx."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Thank you, sir: I couldn't ask for more. There's -another thing: do you think you could do anything for -Mr. Toley? He's a capital fellow."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I know it. I have anticipated you. Toley is appointed -captain of the </span><em class="italics">Jane</em><span>, an Indiaman that arrived the other -day; her captain died of scurvy on the way out. She'll -sail for England next week; we go with her, and so does -that villain Barker, who'll get his deserts when he reaches -London. The </span><em class="italics">Good Intent</em><span> is broken up; her interloping -is over for good and all. But come, my boy, sure 'tis time -we dressed: Admiral Watson likes punctuality, and I -promise you he'll give us a capital dinner. A word in your -ear: Phyllis is to sit between you and Hastings. You -can't eat him, at any rate."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A week later Desmond went down to the Company's -ghat to see the </span><em class="italics">Jane</em><span> sail. Mr. Toley, in his brand new -uniform, looked more melancholy than ever, and Phyllis -Merriman made a little grimace when she saw for the first -time the captain under whose charge she was to sail for home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Don't be alarmed," said Desmond, laughing. "The -sadder he looks, I believe the happier he is. Silas Toley is -a fine seaman and a true gentleman.--I wonder if we shall -ever meet again, Miss Merriman?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I wonder, Mr. Burke."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I shall hear about you, I hope."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Dear me! 'tis very unlikely. Father hates putting -pen to paper. 'Tis far more likely I shall hear of you, -Mr. Burke, doing terrible things among these poor Indians--and -tigers: I am sure you must want to shoot a tiger."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"You shall have my first skin--if I may send it."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mamma will be charmed, I am sure; though, indeed, -she may have too many of them, for we have the same -promise from--let me see--Mr. Lushington, Mr. Picard, -Mr. Hastings, and----"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"All aboard!" sang out a voice from the deck of the -vessel.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Phyllis gave Desmond her hand, and looked at last into -his eyes. What he read in hers filled him with contentment. -She ran across the plank and joined her father and -mother, to whom Desmond had already said his adieus. -At the last moment Bulger came up puffing, a miscellaneous -collection of curiosities dangling from his hook.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Good-bye, sir," he said, giving Desmond a hearty grip. -Then he shut one eye and jerked his head in the direction -of the vessel. "Never you fear, sir: I'll keep my weather -eye open. Missy have took an uncommon fancy to this -here little fish-hook o' mine, and 'tis my belief I'll keep her -hangin' on to it, sir, nevertheless and notwithstandin' and -all that, till you comes home covered with gore and glory. -I may be wrong."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He tumbled on deck. Then amid cheers, with flags -flying and handkerchiefs waving, the good ship moved from -the ghat into the swelling river.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst" id="chapter-the-thirty-second"><span class="large">CHAPTER THE THIRTY-SECOND</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span class="bold">In which the curtain falls, to the sound of -bells; and our hero comes to his own.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>It was a mellow day in October, 1760, a little more than -six years since the day when Market Drayton gave rein to -its enthusiasm in honour of Clive. From a flagstaff newly -erected on the roof of the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span> on the Newport Road -a square of bunting flapped in the breeze. Inside the inn -the innkeeper was drawing a pint of ale for his one solitary -customer, a shambling countryman with a shock of very -red hair, and eyes of innocent blue.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"There, that makes a quart, Tummas Biles, and 'tis as -much as your turnip head can safely carry."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>He passed the can across the bar on a hook that -projected from a wooden socket in his sleeve.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Why now, Mr. Bulger," said Tummas the tranter, -"what fur do you go fur to miscall me like other fowk? -I've been miscalled ever since that day since I drove a -stranger into Market Drayton six year ago. I mind me he -had a red feather in his cap, and not knowing my name was -plain Tummas he called me Jehu, he did, and I never forgot -it. Ay, and I tell ya what, Mr. Bulger: it took me two year -to find out why he give me such an uncommon name. I -mind I was sittin' by a hayrick of Mr. Burke's--that was -long afore he was lamed by that terrible horse o' his--and -ponderin' on that heathen name, when all at wunst it comed -to me like a flash o' lightnin'. 'Jehu!' says I to myself. -'I bin and got ya at last.' Ya see, when that stranger -saw me, I were drivin' a horse. Well, I says to my horse, -'Gee-ho!' says I. Not knowin' my true chrisom name, -the stranger takes up my words an' fits 'em to me. 'Gee-ho!' -says I; 'Gee-ho!' says he; only bein' a kind o' -furriner he turns it into 'Jehu': an' the name fits me -uncommon. Hee! hee!"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"I may be wrong," said Bulger, "but 'tis my belief -'Hee-haw!' would fit you a big sight better. But -hark! en't them the bells a-ringin '?"</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The two hastened to the door, and stood looking down the -road towards Market Drayton. From the distance came -the faint sounds of a merry peal. By and by a four-horsed -open carriage with outriders appeared on the crest of the -hill. Amid the dust it raised another could be seen, and -behind this a long line of vehicles. Every coachman's -whip was decorated with a wedding favour. The cavalcade -approached rapidly. As the first carriage drew nearer -Bulger became more and more excited, and when it dashed -past the inn he raised his hook and shouted -"Hurray! hurray!" with the full force of his lungs.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Give 'em a cheer, Tummas," he cried. "Hee-haw will -do if you knows no better. Hurray for Major Desmond -Burke and his madam--the purtiest gal I ever did see, east -or west. Hurray for her father and mother: there they -are, with old squire an' the Major's mother. And there's -Mr. Clive, all alone by himself 'cos his leg's stiff wi' the -rheumatics; but he would come to see the deed done, -which I may be wrong, but the new King George'll make -him a live lord afore he's much older. Open your mouth, -Tummas, an' if you hee-haw loud enough, I'll draw you -another pint for nothing."</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond, now a Major, had returned home in company -with Clive. During the three years that had passed since -he witnessed the sailing of the </span><em class="italics">Jane</em><span> he had seen much -service. He had been with Colonel Forde when that fine -soldier expelled the French from the Northern Sirkars. -He was with the same officer when he thrashed the Dutch -at Biderra. He had been in close touch with Clive when -these successful operations were planned; and the nearer -he saw him, the more he admired the great man's courage -in taking risks, promptitude in dealing with sudden -emergencies, sagacity in seeing to the heart of a difficult -situation. Thus, during those years, he gained much knowledge -of the science of war, and much experience in dealing -with men. He became rich also, not by questionable -means, but by reaping the legitimate rewards of good and -faithful service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Before leaving India, Desmond learnt of changes that had -happened at home. His brother had been thrown by a -young and mettlesome horse, and so badly trampled that -he must remain a helpless invalid for the rest of his life. -Sir Willoughby Stokes, even before he learnt of the death -of his nephew Peloti, had made Desmond his heir. -Mr. Merriman had bought an estate near his father's old friend, -and settled down to the life of a country gentleman. A year -after his return, Job Grinsell, the landlord of the </span><em class="italics">Four Alls</em><span>, -had been sentenced to a long term of imprisonment for -poaching, and Mr. Merriman had no difficulty in -persuading Sir Philip Chetwode to let his inn to Bulger.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>After an interview with Mr. Merriman, Desmond found -the courage to put to Phyllis the question which he had not -ventured to ask before she left India. What the answer -was may be inferred from the fact that Sir Willoughby -insisted on the wedding taking place at once. It was -time for the return of his old enemy the gout, he said; he -was going to Buxton to end his days, and wished to see -the Hall in the hands of his heir before he left. Mr. Burslem, -Desmond's old schoolmaster, performed the ceremony, -and Clive, though suffering from rheumatism, came down -for the occasion. The only familiar form that Desmond -missed was that of old Dickon, who had died a few months -after Desmond's departure from home.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Desmond settled down for a time at the Hall, cheering -his mother's declining years, repaying good for ill to his -invalid brother, and winning golden opinions from all -his neighbours high and low. He eagerly watched the -further career of his old hero, now Lord Clive; learnt to -admire him as statesman as well as soldier; sympathized -with him through all the attacks made upon him, and -mourned him sincerely when, in 1774, the great man, preyed -upon by an insidious disease, died by his own hand. Five -years later he felt the East calling, bought a commission, -and sailed with General Sir Eyre Coote, to take part in the -"frantic military exploits," as some one called them, -of Warren Hastings against Haidar Ali and Tippu in Mysore. -He came home a Colonel, and was made a baronet for his -services in the war. Finally retiring from public life, he lived -for thirty years longer on his estate, happy in the careers of -his two sons, who became soldiers like himself. He died, -an old man, in the year after Waterloo, at which his eldest -grandson, a lieutenant in the Guards, behaved with a -gallantry that attracted the notice of the Iron Duke.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Visitors to Sir Desmond Burke's house were amused and -interested to see a battered wooden stump with an iron hook -hanging in a conspicuous place in the hall, amid tigers' -heads, Indian weapons, and other trophies from the East.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"That?" Sir Desmond would say, in answer to their -question. "That belonged to one of the best friends I ever -had, a fine old salt named William Bulger. I met him when -I was sixteen, and buried him when I was forty: and my -wife and I have felt ever since a blank in our lives. If you -can put up with an old man's stories, I'll tell you something -of what Bulger and I went through together, when I was a -youngster with Clive in India."</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="medium">THE END.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span>* * * * * * * *</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><span class="large">Uniform Edition of the Stories of</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="x-large">HERBERT STRANG</span></p> -<p class="center pnext"><span class="medium">SIZE 7 3/4 in. x 5 in., CLOTH, WITH COLOUR AND HALF-TONE -<br />PLATES, AND FULL COLOUR JACKETS.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Tom Burnaby: A Story of Uganda and the Great -Congo Forest. Illustrated by C. SHELDON.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A particular interest attaches to "Tom Burnaby," for it -was the first romance of adventure written by Mr. Herbert -Strang, and it secured for him the place in the forefront of -writers of boys' stories that he has maintained ever since. -The hero is attached to an expedition sent to punish a band -of slave-raiding Arabs in the vicinity of the Victoria Nyanza. -He is captured by the Arabs, but escapes, and, after long -wanderings in the great Congo Forest, is befriended by an -African chief, whom he assists in a prolonged struggle with -his old enemies. The story of Tom's efforts to impart military -discipline to the natives, his strategy and final triumph over -the Arabs, is told with great zest and with many touches of -humour.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The tone of the story is excellent; manly and spirited, it cannot -fail to rouse a response in a boy's heart."--</span><em class="italics">World</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>A Gentleman-at-Arms: Being Passages in the Life -of Sir Christopher Rudd, Knight, as Related by Himself -in the Year 1641.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book is unique in literature for boys. It relates the -adventurous career of an Elizabethan gentleman, in a style -carefully modelled on the simple prose of the century which -produced the Authorised Version of the Bible. No previous -writer for boys has ever attempted a similar achievement. -Apart from its romantic and exciting incidents, this story has -great value by reason of its historical and geographical -information, and its exceptional style.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Sultan Jim: Empire Builder. Illustrated by CYRUS CUNEO.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Mr. Herbert Strang has chosen the African continent as the -setting for some of his most remarkable stories, and of these -"Sultan Jim" is not the least remarkable. It was written -prior to the war, when the colonising activities of rival European -powers was raising problems of the greatest interest and -importance. The presence of a young Englishman in one of -the debatable lands at a time of upheaval and international -rivalry enables him to uphold the interests of the Empire -against formidable opposition. The story is brimful of -adventure, and its moral is that of patriotic self-sacrifice.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Adventures of Harry Rochester: A Story -of the Days of Marlborough and Eugene. Illustrated -by W. RAINEY.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Harry Rochester stands unrivalled amongst stories for boys -as a living presentment of a stirring period of English history. -It creates anew the glamour of the eighteenth century, and -many of the great personages of the time cross its pages. -Harry's ambition is to carry the Queen's colours, but his -father being a poor country parson, and commissions selling -high, he sees no prospect of attaining it. Nothing daunted, -however, he takes whatever means offer to carve out a career -for himself. As assistant to a Dutch merchant responsible for -victualling certain of the Allied troops, Harry is brought into -contact with the army in Flanders, and with Marlborough -himself; and, later, his desire for a military career finds an -outlet with the army of Prince Eugene, under whom he fights -at Blenheim.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A stirring tale ... told in such a manner as to make it welcome -to any healthy-minded boy, and also, be it said, to not a few whose -boyhood, alas! is many a long year behind them."--</span><em class="italics">Daily Telegraph</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Humphrey Bold: His Chances and Mischances by -Land and Sea. A Story of the Time of Benbow. -Illustrated by W. H. MARGETSON.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this book, one of Mr. Herbert Strang's best-known -historical romances, are recounted the adventures of Humphrey -Bold from the time when he was a puny slip of a boy attending -Shrewsbury School, the butt of his companions, who chaffed -him for being Bold by name and timid by nature, until he -had grown into a sturdy young giant, and sailed into Plymouth -Sound as First Lieutenant of the Bristol frigate. The -intervening chapters tell of Humphrey's service at sea under Admiral -Benbow, his capture by the French and his escape from prison, -and of the many exciting events that befell him in the West -Indies.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"So felicitous is he in imparting local colour to his narrative that -whilst reading it we have found ourselves thinking of Thackeray. This -suggests a standard by which very few writers of boys' books will bear -being judged. The majority of them are content to provide their young -friends with mere reading. Herbert Strang offers them -literature."--</span><em class="italics">Glasgow Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Rob the Ranger: A Story of the Fight for Canada. -Illustrated by W. H. MARGETSON.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Rob the Ranger," which has been placed by General -Baden-Powell first among the great scouting stories, brings -out the romantic side of the fight for Canada. Rob Somers, -son of an English settler in New York State, sets out with Lone -Pete, a trapper, in pursuit of an Indian raiding party which -has destroyed his home and carried off his younger brother. -He is captured and taken to Quebec, where he finds his brother -in strange circumstances, and escapes in dead of winter, in -company with a little band of New Englanders. They are -pursued over snow and ice, and in a log-hut beside Lake -Champlain maintain a desperate struggle against a large force -of French, Indians, and half-breeds, ultimately reaching Fort -Edward in safety.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"If there had ever been the least doubt as to Mr. Strang's -pre-eminence as a writer of boys' books, -it would be very effectually banished -by this work of his."--</span><em class="italics">Glasgow Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Palm Tree Island: A Romance of the South Seas. -Illustrated by ARCHIBALD WEBB and ALAN WRIGHT.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this story two boys are left on a volcanic island in the -South Seas, destitute of everything but their clothes. The -story relates how they provided themselves with food and -shelter, with tools and weapons; how they fought with wild -dogs and sea monsters; and how, when they have settled -down to a comfortable life under the shadow of the volcano, -their peace is disturbed by the advent of savages and a crew -of mutinous Englishmen. The savages are driven away; the -mutineers are subdued through the boys' ingenuity; and they -ultimately sail away in a vessel of their own construction. In -no other book has the author more admirably blended -amusement with instruction.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Written so well that there is not a dull page in the book."--</span><em class="italics">The -World</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"A capital story for boys, thoroughly healthy in tone, providing -plenty of adventure and a quantum of the marvellous to satisfy the -most exacting of our young bloods."--</span><em class="italics">Schoolmaster</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Settlers and Scouts: A Story of Pioneering in East -Africa. Illustrated by T. C. DUGDALE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The scene of this story is laid in the Highlands of British -East Africa, and the book gives a vivid and accurately-drawn -picture of the dangers and hardships that even in these days -await the pioneer in the more remote parts of the British -Empire. It also furnishes a good deal of information -respecting the country and the people amid which the story moves. -An Englishman and his son emigrate thither and settle down -as farmers and stock-raisers; and the difficulties they encounter, -first through the depredations of wild beasts, and afterwards -owing to the hostility of an Arab chief and his followers engaged -in the ivory trade, prove in the highest degree their courage -and resource.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Strang, as behoves such a favourite as he, provides plenty of -adventure and excitement, but he gives much practical information as -well, and his books may be recommended to any reader who wishes to -learn what chance there is for a white settler in Uganda or to study -the state of affairs at the Congo."--</span><em class="italics">Daily Mail</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Boys of the Light Brigade: A Story of the -Peninsular War. Illustrated by W. RAINEY.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book opens in the streets of Salamanca with Lieutenant -Jack Lumsden of the 95th Rifles endeavouring to keep the -peace between some of his own Riflemen and the Spaniards. -His harangue in fluent Spanish is overheard by Sir John Moore, -who recognises in the young officer just the man he wants for -his purpose, and sends him off upon a mission of some delicacy. -Thence onward, Lumsden's adventures are interwoven with -the history of Moore's gallant army in the Peninsula, -culminating in the great retreat and the Battle of Corunna.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Of all the qualities that go to make up a perfect boys' book we -know of none that is wanting in 'Boys of the Light -Brigade,'"--</span><em class="italics">Glasgow Herald</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Kobo: A Story of the Far East. Illustrated by W. RAINEY.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book recounts the adventures of a young British engineer -during the opening phases of the Russo-Japanese War. Bob -Fawcett is sent to the Far East on behalf of his firm, which -has supplied range-finding instruments to the Japanese Navy. -His arrival coinciding with the outbreak of war leads, by a -natural sequence of events, to his being an eye-witness of the -first great sea fights by which Japan revealed herself to the -world as a first-rate naval power; and the grim struggle -between East and West is an ever-present background to the -stirring story of his subsequent adventures amongst Cossacks -and Manchu brigands, and of his friendship with Kobo, an -officer of the Japanese Secret Service.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An excellent story, such as one might expect to have from the -author of that capital book, 'Tom Burnaby.' 'With a Japanese duty -comes inexorably first.' This, indeed, is the keynote of the whole -story. This principle of action dominates Bob's friend, and it dominates -the story."--</span><em class="italics">Spectator</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The book is capital: full of life and vigour and local colour.... -Mr. Strang has intimate personal knowledge of the countries of which -he writes, which, no doubt, accounts for much of the </span><em class="italics">vraisemblance</em><span> of -his story."--</span><em class="italics">Guardian</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Jack Brown in China: A Story of the Russo-Japanese -War. (Originally published under the title of -"Brown of Moukden.") Illustrated by W. RAINEY.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book describes the adventures of a young Englishman -in Manchuria during the latter stages of the Russo-Japanese -War. Mr. Brown, senior, a merchant of Moukden, is wrongly -convicted by the Russian authorities of giving information to -the Japanese, and is deported from the city. Jack does not -know where his father has been sent, but he goes through some -desperate adventures in his attempts to find out, and to get -his wrongs redressed. At one time he is in imminent danger -of being beheaded as a "foreign devil" in an outlying village, -but is delivered in the nick of time by a band of brigands; -and he has more than a passing glimpse of actual warfare. -There is humour as well as excitement in the book, and some -of Mr. Strang's orientals are very entertaining characters.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The equal of anything we know of in the whole range of juvenile -fiction.... The book will hold boy readers spellbound."--</span><em class="italics">Church -Times</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Samba: A Story of the Congo. Illustrated by W. RAINEY.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The scene of this story is laid in the Congo Free State, where -a young Englishman and his uncle, while prospecting for gold, -are brought into violent contact with the Belgians who are -working the rubber concessions. Moved to indignation by the -sight of the barbarous methods employed to extort rubber -from the natives, the hero openly champions the cause of the -oppressed; he gathers about him a small force, to which he -imparts a measure of military discipline, and with it administers -a sharp lesson to the slave-drivers. He restores the confidence -of the natives in the White Man; to them he is Lokolobolo, a -great chief, and a harbinger of brighter days.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"It was an excellent idea on the part of Mr. Herbert Strang to write -a story about the treatment of the natives in the Congo Free State.... -Mr. Strang has a big following among English boys, and anything he -chooses to write is sure to receive their appreciative -attention."--</span><em class="italics">Standard</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Herbert Strang has written not a few admirable books for boys, -but none likely to make a more profound impression than his new story -of this year."--</span><em class="italics">Scotsman</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Adventures of Dick Trevanion: A Story of -1804. Illustrated by W. RAINEY.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This is a romance of the early years of the nineteenth century. -In it the old smuggling days are made to live again, and -reverberations are heard of the war with Napoleon. The -Trevanions are a Cornish family, whose fortunes have fallen -low through the working out of their tin mines, and the -scheming of a relative who bears a grudge against the head -of the house. Dick, after many exciting events in which he -is involved with smugglers and French privateers, makes a -happy discovery, through which the prosperity of his family -is restored.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Herbert Strang has been well called the 'Twentieth-Century -Marryat.' His many books stand high up on the list of boys' favourites. -and among his new books for this year none is likely to be more welcome -than 'The Adventures of Dick Trevanion.' The story is dated in the -early years of the nineteenth century, and Dick's adventures on land -and sea are so vividly depicted by Mr. Strang that it would not be -surprising to find the book in the hands of older readers with a taste -for adventure."--</span><em class="italics">Gentlewoman</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>With Drake on the Spanish Main: Illustrated -by ARCHIBALD WEBB.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>A rousing story of adventure by sea and land. The hero, -Dennis Hazelrig, is cast ashore on an island in the Spanish -Main, the sole survivor of a band of adventurers from Plymouth. -He lives for some time with no companion but a spider monkey, -but by a series of remarkable incidents he gathers about him -a numerous band of escaped slaves and prisoners, English, -French and native; captures a Spanish fort; fights a Spanish -galleon; meets Francis Drake, and accompanies him in his -famous adventures on the Isthmus of Panama; and finally -reaches England the possessor of much treasure.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Herbert Strang bids fair to become to the present what the -late G. A. Henty was to the past generation of young folk; in fact, his -stirring romances, though, like Henty's, worked up on a sound historical -basis, are far better written."--</span><em class="italics">The Lady</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Another of Mr. Herbert Strang's masterful stories of adventure and -romance."--</span><em class="italics">School Guardian</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Air Patrol: A Story of the North-West Frontier. -Illustrated by CYRUS CUNEO.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>In this book Mr. Strang looks ahead to a time when there -is a great Mongolian Empire whose army sweeps down on to -the North-West Frontier of India. His two heroes luckily -have an aeroplane, and with the help of a few Pathan miners, -they hold a pass in the Hindu Kush against a swarm of Mongols, -long enough to prevent the cutting of the communications of -the Indian army operating in Afghanistan.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"An exceptionally good book, written moreover in excellent -style."--</span><em class="italics">Times</em><span>.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"The 'Air Patrol' is really a masterpiece."--</span><em class="italics">Morning Post</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 3em"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Barclay of the Guides: A Story of the Indian -Mutiny. Illustrated in Colour by W. KOEKKOEK. With Maps.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Of all our native Indian regiments the Guides have probably -the most glorious traditions. They were among the few who -remained true to their salt during the trying days of the great -Mutiny, vying in gallantry and devotion with our best British -regiments. The story tells how James Barclay, after a strange -career in Afghanistan, becomes associated with this famous -regiment, and, though young in years, bears a man's part in -the great march to Delhi, the capture of the royal city, and -the suppression of the Mutiny.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>"Mr. Strang has been truly described as 'a born teacher of history,' -and this story of the Indian Mutiny is an additional proof of the truth -of the observation."--</span><em class="italics">Schoolmistress</em><span>.</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 4em"> -</div> -<p class="center pfirst"><em class="italics large">Complete List of Stories for Boys by</em><span class="large"> -<br />HERBERT STRANG</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 2em"> -</div> -<p class="left pfirst"><span>ADVENTURES OF DICK TREVANION, THE -<br />ADVENTURES OF HARRY ROCHESTER, THE -<br />A GENTLEMAN-AT-ARMS -<br />A HERO OF LIEGE -<br />AIR PATROL, THE -<br />AIR SCOUT, THE -<br />BARCLAY OF THE GUIDES -<br />BLUE RAIDER, THE -<br />BOYS OF THE LIGHT BRIGADE -<br />BRIGHT IDEAS -<br />BURTON OF THE FLYING CORPS -<br />CARRY ON -<br />CRUISE OF THE GYRO-CAR, THE -<br />FIGHTING WITH FRENCH -<br />FLYING BOAT, THE -<br />FRANK FORESTER -<br />HEIR OF A HUNDRED KINGS, THE -<br />HUMPHREY BOLD -<br />JACK BROWN IN CHINA -<br />JACK HARDY -<br />KING OF THE AIR -<br />KOBO -<br />LONG TRAIL, THE -<br />LORD OF THE SEAS -<br />MOTOR SCOUT, THE -<br />NO MAN'S ISLAND -<br />OLD MAN OF THE MOUNTAIN, THE -<br />ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES -<br />PALM TREE ISLAND -<br />ROB THE RANGER -<br />ROUND THE WORLD IN SEVEN DAYS -<br />SAMBA -<br />SETTLERS AND SCOUTS -<br />SULTAN JIM -<br />SWIFT AND SURE -<br />THOUSAND MILES AN HOUR, A -<br />THROUGH THE ENEMY'S LINES -<br />TOM BURNABY -<br />TOM WILLOUGHBY'S SCOUTS -<br />TRUE AS STEEL -<br />WINNING HIS NAME -<br />WITH DRAKE ON THE SPANISH MAIN -<br />WITH HAIG ON THE SOMME -<br />YOUNG JACK</span></p> -<div class="vspace" style="height: 6em"> -</div> -<!-- -*- encoding: utf-8 -*- --> -<div class="backmatter"> -</div> -<p class="pfirst" id="pg-end-line"><span>*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK </span><span>ONE OF CLIVE'S HEROES</span><span> ***</span></p> -<div class="cleardoublepage"> -</div> -<div class="language-en level-2 pgfooter section" id="a-word-from-project-gutenberg" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> -<span id="pg-footer"></span><h2 class="level-2 pfirst section-title title"><span>A Word from Project Gutenberg</span></h2> -<p class="pfirst"><span>We will update this book if we find any errors.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>This book can be found under: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41489"><span>http://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/41489</span></a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no one -owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation (and -you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set -forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works to -protect the Project Gutenberg™ concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you charge -for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you do not -charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the rules is -very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as -creation of derivative works, reports, performances and research. -They may be modified and printed and given away – you may do -practically </span><em class="italics">anything</em><span> with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution.</span></p> -<div class="level-3 section" id="the-full-project-gutenberg-license"> -<span id="project-gutenberg-license"></span><h3 class="level-3 pfirst section-title title"><span>The Full Project Gutenberg License</span></h3> -<p class="pfirst"><em class="italics">Please read this before you distribute or use this work.</em></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license</a><span>.</span></p> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-1-general-terms-of-use-redistributing-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 1. General Terms of Use & Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.A.</strong><span> By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by -the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.B.</strong><span> “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.C.</strong><span> The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is in the public domain in the United -States and you are located in the United States, we do not claim a -right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting free -access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ works -in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the Project -Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily comply with -the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the same format -with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when you share it -without charge with others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.D.</strong><span> The copyright laws of the place where you are located also -govern what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most -countries are in a constant state of change. If you are outside the -United States, check the laws of your country in addition to the terms -of this agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.</strong><span> Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.1.</strong><span> The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.2.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating -that it is posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work -can be copied and distributed to anyone in the United States without -paying any fees or charges. If you are redistributing or providing -access to a work with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with -or appearing on the work, you must comply either with the requirements -of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of -the work and the Project Gutenberg™ trademark as set forth in -paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.3.</strong><span> If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -posted with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and -distribution must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and -any additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works posted -with the permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of -this work.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.4.</strong><span> Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project -Gutenberg™ License terms from this work, or any files containing a -part of this work or any other work associated with Project -Gutenberg™.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.5.</strong><span> Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute -this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.6.</strong><span> You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format other -than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ web site -(</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a><span>), you must, at no additional cost, fee or -expense to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a -means of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original -“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include -the full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.7.</strong><span> Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.E.8.</strong><span> You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works provided -that</span></p> -<ul class="open"> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from -the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method you -already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed to -the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has agreed to -donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid within 60 -days following each date on which you prepare (or are legally -required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty payments -should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in Section 4, -“Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation.”</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies -you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he -does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ -License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all -copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue -all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ -works.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of -any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the -electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of -receipt of the work.</span></p> -</li> -<li><p class="first pfirst"><span>You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free -distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works.</span></p> -</li> -</ul> -<p class="pfirst"><strong class="bold">1.E.9.</strong><span> If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -Michael Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact -the Foundation as set forth in Section 3. below.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.</strong></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.1.</strong><span> Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend -considerable effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe -and proofread public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg™ -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.2.</strong><span> LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES – Except for the -“Right of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the -Project Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.3.</strong><span> LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND – If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.4.</strong><span> Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set -forth in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS,’ WITH -NO OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.5.</strong><span> Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><strong class="bold">1.F.6.</strong><span> INDEMNITY – You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, -the trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause.</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-2-information-about-the-mission-of-project-gutenberg"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will remain -freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future generations. To -learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and -how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 and the -Foundation web page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a><span> .</span></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-3-information-about-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -</span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf</a><span> . Contributions to the -Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to -the full extent permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. -S. Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are -scattered throughout numerous locations. Its business office is -located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) -596-1887, email </span><a class="reference external" href="mailto:business@pglaf.org">business@pglaf.org</a><span>. Email contact links and up to date -contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.pglaf.org">http://www.pglaf.org</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>For additional contact information:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<div class="line-block outermost"> -<div class="line"><span>Dr. Gregory B. Newby</span></div> -<div class="line"><span>Chief Executive and Director</span></div> -<div class="line"><a class="reference external" href="mailto:gbnewby@pglaf.org">gbnewby@pglaf.org</a></div> -</div> -</div> -</blockquote> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-4-information-about-donations-to-the-project-gutenberg-literary-archive-foundation"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without wide spread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of increasing -the number of public domain and licensed works that can be freely -distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest array of -equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations ($1 to -$5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt status -with the IRS.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: </span><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate">http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate</a></p> -</div> -<div class="level-4 section" id="section-5-general-information-about-project-gutenberg-electronic-works"> -<h4 class="level-4 pfirst section-title title"><span>Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works.</span></h4> -<p class="pfirst"><span>Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg™ -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the -U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's -eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, -compressed (zipped), HTML and others.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Corrected </span><em class="italics">editions</em><span> of our eBooks replace the old file and take over -the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is -renamed. </span><em class="italics">Versions</em><span> based on separate sources are treated as new -eBooks receiving new filenames and etext numbers.</span></p> -<p class="pnext"><span>Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility:</span></p> -<blockquote> -<div> -<p class="pfirst"><a class="reference external" href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a></p> -</div> -</blockquote> -<p class="pfirst"><span>This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg™, including -how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to subscribe -to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.</span></p> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</div> -</body> -</html> |