"I wish you a very good morning, your Honor."
"Good gad!--Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti! I'm uncommonly glad to see you."
He shook hands warmly, a mark of condescension which made the Babu beam with gratification.
"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 tonight; I am staying there."
"I shall be most glad to return to my desk in Calcutta, your Honor," said the Babu. "But I do not like the sea. It has no sympathy with me. I think of accomplishing the journey by land."
"Good heavens, man! it would take you a year at the least, if you weren't swallowed by a tiger or strangled by a Thug on the way. You'll have to go by water, as you came."
The Babu's face fell.
"That is the fly in the ointment, your Honor. 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 Honor's permission, to do trifling trade for myself."
"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."
Time sped quickly. Desmond made the best use of his opportunities of learning navigation under Captain King and the harbor master, 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 favorite with the little European community of Bombay.
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 Parsees exposed their dead, the burning pyres of the Hindus on the beach, the gaunt filthy fakirs {religious mendicant (Mohammedan)} 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 loath to ask him whether he had sounded Clive about a cadetship. As a matter of fact Mr. Merriman had mentioned the matter at once.
"Patience, Merriman," was Clive's reply. "I have my eye on the youngster."
And with that the merchant, knowing his friend, was very well content; but he kept his own counsel.
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 Tyger; the fleet was about to sail.
It was a bright, cool February morning; cool, that is, for Bombay, when the vessels weighed anchor and sailed slowly out of the harbor. 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.
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 Tremukji, on which Desmond had escaped--and forty gallivats. The Tyger led the van. Admiral Watson's flag was hoisted on the Kent, Admiral Pocock's on the Cumberland. On board the fleet were two hundred European soldiers, three hundred Sepoys, and three hundred Topasses--mainly half-caste Portuguese in the service of the Company, owing their name to the topi {hat} they wore. To cooperate with this force a land army of twelve thousand 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.
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.
"Like the look of your cage, Mr. Burke?" asked Captain Latham at his elbow.
"I was just thinking of it, sir," said Desmond. "It makes a very great difference when you're outside the bars."
"And we'll break those bars before we're much older, or I'm a Dutchman."
But at this moment the signal to heave-to was seen flying at the masthead of the Kent. Before the vessels had anchored one of the grabs left the main fleet and ran into the harbor. 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 harbor 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.
It was evident that hostilities could not be avoided. About one in the afternoon Captain Henry Smith of the Kingfisher sloop was ordered to lead the way, and Desmond was sent to join him.
"What is the depth under the walls, Mr. Burke?" the captain asked him.
"Three and a half fathoms, sir--deep enough to float the biggest of us."
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 Kent, and assisting each captain in turn to navigate the unfamiliar harbor.
It was just two o'clock when the engagement began with a shot from the fort at the Kingfisher. The shot was returned, and a quarter of an hour later, while the fleet was under full sail, the Kent 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.
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 pirate fleet of 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 spread rapidly to the dockyard, caught the unfinished grabs on the stocks, and before long the whole of Angria's shipping was a mass of flame.
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.
Some time before this a message reached Captain Smith ordering him to send Desmond at once on board the Kent. 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 reconnoitered 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.
"I am going to send you on a somewhat delicate mission, Mr. Burke," he said. "You know the ground. I want you to go quickly 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."
"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."
"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."
"The Tremukji is only a few cable lengths away, sir, and there's a man on board who knows the harbor. I will take him, with your permission."
"Very well. Good luck go with you."
Desmond saluted, and stepping into the boat which had rowed him to the Kent, 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.
"You are kind to me, sahib," he said. "I do not deserve it; but I will serve you to my life's end."
There was in the man's tone a fervency which touched Desmond at the time, and which he had good cause afterwards to remember.
A quarter of an hour after Desmond quitted the deck of the Kent, he was put ashore at a sandy bay at the farther extremity of the isthmus, hidden from the fort by a small clump of mango trees.
"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."
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.
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 neighborhood. 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.
Stepping warily, he picked his way through the darkness, faintly illuminated 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.
He had now reached the outer wall, which was separated from the fort only by the 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.
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 harbor.
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.
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 someone acting, strange as it seemed, in collusion with them. On all accounts it was necessary to keep close.
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 harbor. 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.
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, leaped 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 toward the two combatants, who in their struggle had moved away from him.
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.
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 the 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.
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.
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:
"You are my prisoner."
"'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."
"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."
"Where do you propose to take me, my friend?"
"We will go this way, and please step out."
Diggle scowled, and stood as though meditating resistance.
"Come, come, Mr. Diggle, you have no choice. I do not wish to have to drag you; it might cause you pain."
"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--"
"You can talk as we go, Mr. Diggle, if you talk low enough. Must I repeat it?"
"But where are we going? Really, Mr. Burke, respect for my years should prompt a more considerate treatment."
"You see yonder point?" said Desmond impatiently; "yonder on the shore. You will come with me there."
Diggle looked around as if hoping that even now something might happen in his favor. 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.
"'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 wrongdoing! 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: aye, 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, put it, 'a change of plan is the best harbor 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--"
"Keep on, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, as the man, who had been talking over his shoulder, half stopped; "my point is sharp."
"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 farther India; I know a little port to the south where I should have taken ship, with strong hope of getting useful and honorable employment when my voyage was ended. Perchance you have heard of Alivirdi Khan; if you would but pause a moment--"
"Go on, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond inexorably; "and it will be well to mend your pace."
"Alivirdi Khan," resumed Diggle, speaking more rapidly; the waters of the harbor, glowing red, were in sight: "Alivirdi Khan is sick unto death. He is wealthy beyond all imaginings. His likeliest heir, Sirajuddaula, soon to be Subah {viceroy} 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 vigor! 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."
"Put up your diamond, Mr. Peloti. You may repeat your offer when we reach Colonel Clive."
Diggle stopped as if shot. He looked with startled eyes at the boy, who had known him only as Diggle.
"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--"
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 Kent, and handed over to the officer of the watch. Then Desmond made his report to Clive.
"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."
"I thank you. You have exceeded your time by ten minutes. Who is that man who came aboard with you?"
"It was he who delayed me, sir. It is Mr. Diggle, or Peloti, I should say."
"The deuce he is!"
"He was stealing out of the fort; it came to a scuffle, and he was wounded--so I brought him along."
"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."
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 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.
Clive postponed his entry until dawn on the following morning.
"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."
All the English officers were impressed by the strength of the fortifications. Besides Angria's two hundred and fifty 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 one hundred thousand pounds, and treasure worth thirty thousand pounds more. The capture had been effected with the loss of only twenty killed and wounded.
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.
"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."
He had the body carried into the town, and reverently buried according to Mohammedan rites. From the lascar he had learned 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.
That evening Clive summoned Desmond to attend him in the palace. When he entered the durbar hall he saw, seated on the dais, a small group consisting of Clive, Admiral Watson, and two or three subordinate officers. Standing in front of them was Diggle, in the charge of two marines.
"How many European prisoners have been released, Mr. Ward?" the admiral was saying.
"Thirteen, sir; ten English and three Dutch."
"Is that correct, Mr. Burke? Was that the number when you were here?"
"Yes, sir, that is correct."
"Then you may go, Mr. Ward, and see that the poor fellows are taken on board the Tyger and well looked after."
As the officer saluted and withdrew the admiral turned to Clive.
"Now for this white pirate," he said: "a most unpleasant matter, truly."
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.
"You captured this man," said Clive, turning to Desmond, "within the precincts of the fort?"
His hard level tone contrasted strongly with the urbaner manner of the admiral.
"Yes, sir," replied Desmond.
"He is the same man who inveigled you on board the interloper Good Intent and delivered you to the Pirate?"
"And he was to your knowledge associated with the Pirate, and offered you inducements to spy upon his Majesty's forces in Bombay?"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you anything to say for yourself, Mr. Peloti?"
"Pardon me, Mr. Clive; Diggle--Marmaduke Diggle."
"Diggle, if you like," said Clive with a shrug. "You will hang as well in that name as another."
One of the officers smiled at the grim jest, but there was no smile on Clive's stern set face.
"You asked me if I had anything to say for myself," said Diggle quietly. "Assuredly; but it seems your Honors 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."
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:
"But there, Mr. Clive, you never excelled in the Latin. 'Twas a sore point with poor Mr. Burslem."
"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 defense to make you will meet the fate of other pirates before you. Have you anything to say?"
"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."
Here Admiral Watson bent forward and said to Clive in an undertone, inaudible to the others:
"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 dead men tell no tales."
Clive frowned, and, drumming upon the divan impatiently with his fingers, seemed for the moment to be lost in thought. Then he said:
"Yes, Mr. Watson, I think you are right."
"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."
And Desmond's face, as he left the room, bore a flush of happiness and pride.
A few days after the capture, the Tyger left Gheria, having on board the men wounded in the attack and the European prisoners who had been rescued. Desmond also sailed in it, with an official report from Admiral Watson to Governor Bourchier.
The arrival of the Tyger 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.
Mr. Merriman was among the crowd that welcomed the Tyger, 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 learned 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.
"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."
"Are you leaving Bombay then?"
"Yes, and I wanted you to come with me. My ship the Hormuzzeer 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 Hormuzzeer 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."
"'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."
"How long will that be?"
"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 Kent told me that it'll be very lucky if they come to an arrangement within a month."
"It's uncommonly vexatious. I can't wait a month. It'll take a week or more to clean the Hormuzzeer's 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?"
"I don't know."
"Did Mr. Clive say anything about a cadetship?"
"Not a word. He only said that I should get a share of the Gheria prize money."
"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."
A week later the Bridgewater 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 harbor.
Desmond had no doubt that this was Diggle's boy Scipio Africanus. And when he mentioned the connection 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.
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 Hormuzzeer, Merriman consulted Mr. Bourchier, who admitted that he saw no reason for detaining the lad. Accordingly, the first week in March, when the vessel stood out of Bombay harbor, Desmond sailed with her.
The weather was calm, but the winds not wholly favorable, and the Hormuzzeer 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 at peace with both France and the Netherlands, there was nothing, he thought, to fear from them.
"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 such things, and must have us under his heel. Only his trading profits and his fear of the Mogul keep him civil."
"But you said he was dying."
"So he is, and that makes matters worse, for his grandson, Sirajuddaula, who'll probably succeed him, is no better than a tiger. He lives at Murshidabad, about one hundred miles up the river. He's a vain, peacocky, empty-headed youth, and as soon as the breath is out of his granddad'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."
"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 forever."
"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 womenfolk: 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."
Mr. Merriman showed his relief when, on the thirtieth 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 tiger," he added. At Kalpi a large barge, rowed by a number of men dressed in white, with pink sashes, came to meet the Hormuzzeer.
"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 colored sashes--and don't our women squabble about the colors, my boy, just don't they!"
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.
"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 {landing stage}.
"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.
"I have heard what the sahib did for my son. I thank the sahib," he said.
"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 {lady}, and the chota {young} bibi?"
"They were well, sahib, when last I heard. They are on a visit to Watts Sahib, at Cossimbazar."
Merriman's face fell, but he had no time to say more, for he was accosted by a friend.
"Glad to see you back, Mr. Merriman. I've wanted your voice on the Council for some time past."
"Is anything wrong, Mr. Holwell?" asked Merriman anxiously.
"Everything is wrong. Alivirdi died a fortnight ago; Sirajuddaula 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."
"Very well. Let me present my friend, Mr. Burke. He escaped from Gheria; you've heard that Colonel Clive captured the place?"
"Yes; we had despatches from Admiral Watson some days ago. I had 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."
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-story flat-roofed house with a veranda, the windows filled, not with oyster shells as at Bombay, but with thin screens of reeds.
"Here we are," said Merriman with a sigh of relief.
"Now I'll hand you over to the baniya {factotum}; 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."
"No, thanks," said Desmond with a smile; "I've no fancy that way."
Shortly afterwards Mr. Merriman left the house in his palanquin, wearing the short white calico jacket that was then de rigueur at dinner parties. It was late before he returned. There was an anxious and worried look on his face, but he said cheerily:
"Well, how have you been getting on?"
"I've been reading, sir: I found a volume of Mr. Fielding's Amelia, and 'twas a change to read after eighteen months without setting eyes on a book. I hope you had a good dinner."
"'Pon my soul, I don't know. None of us knows, 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, Sirajuddaula, 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."
"But why should he be at odds with us?"
"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 Sirajuddaula 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 defenses 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."
"Sure you don't allow the enemy's spies to live in Calcutta?"
"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 Delaware 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 defenses 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."
Desmond slept like a top on his light mattress, enveloped in his mosquito curtains. In the morning he accompanied Mr. Merriman to his daftarkhanah {office}, where he found a large staff under the superintendence of the muhri {chief clerk}, 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.
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 {substantial} house, surrounded by a compound and a low wall.
"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. Lyre, 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."
"Why don't you turn him out, then?" asked Desmond.
"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."
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 learned, and as soon as it arrived the Hormuzzeer would be able to sail for Penang.
"A private venture," he said to Desmond, "nothing to do with the Company."
Desmond expressed his surprise that the Company's officials were at liberty to engage in private trading.
"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 Hormuzzeer? Let me buy some goods for you, and send 'em to Penang: they'll fetch top prices there, especially in the present state of trade. 'Twill be an excellent investment."
"Thank you, sir, I'll be glad to follow your advice."
"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."
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 center of the inclosure. Around it on three sides were the houses of individual merchants and officers. A wide avenue known as the Lal Bazar led from the ravelin of the fort past the courthouse to the native part of the town. On one side of the avenue was the Park or Lal Bagh, with a great tank by which a band played in the evening. Around the town was the incomplete Maratha ditch.
Desmond became the object of much kindly attention from the Company's servants and their families. Everyone 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 one or two 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.
On the evening of the third day after his arrival 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.
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 Good Intent being an interloper, it was not at all likely that she had ventured to put in at Calcutta.
By and by Bulger seemed to become aware that someone 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:
"By thunder, 'tis Mr. Burke or his ghost! Bless my heart! Ho! shake hands, matey; this is a sight for bad eyes!"
"Glad to see you, Bulger," said Desmond quietly; "and you, too, Mr. Toley."
Mr. Toley had shown no surprise; but then, nothing ever surprised Mr. Toley.
"Sure I'm rejoiced," he said. "We had given you up for lost."
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.
"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?"
"Not yet, Bulger," replied Desmond, laughing. "How's Captain Barker?"
Bulger spat out a quid of tobacco and hitched up his breeches.
"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."
"What has happened?"
"Happened! Why, sir, Mr. Toley'll tell you what happened. He knows the thus, therefore, and whereupon of it."
The good fellow was itching to tell, but as in duty bound deferred to his superior officer.
"Go on, Bulger," said the American, "you've got a looser tongue than me."
"Which I don't deny, sir. Two days ago--'twas at Chandernagore, where the Good Intent's been laid up for a matter a' 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 today. Never did I see sich a sight all the years I've been afloat, an' that's saying 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.
"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?"
"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."
Before he left the men, Desmond took Mr. Toley aside.
"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?"
"I would, sir. I'm a man of few words."
"Very well; come up to Mr. Merriman's house by the Rope Walk and we'll see what he says."
That same day Mr. Merriman invited the American to dinner, and engaged him, to Desmond's surprise, as first mate for the Hormuzzeer, with Bulger as bo'sun.
"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 coasting vessel. Look in at the daftarkhanah sometimes, and get Surendra Nath to explain something of our business methods."
He said no more at that time, and Desmond felt no little curiosity about his host's intentions.
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.
"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."
"Diggle!" exclaimed Desmond, springing up. "You must be mistaken, Bulger."
"I may be wrong, sir, but I never remembers any time when I was."
"What house did he go into?"
"That I can't tell you, sir, not bein' sure o' my bearin's."
"But you could point it out?"
"'Course I could. Rather. Just so."
"Then I'll came along with you, and you can show me. If it is Diggle, we must have him arrested."
"True, an' I'll knot the rope for his neck."
"How long ago was this?"
"Not a quarter of an hour, sir. I comed up at once."
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 {hanging screens made of thin strips of bamboo} 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 impossible to mistake the gloved right hand. It was Diggle to a certainty.
"Are you game to capture them?" said Desmond.
Bulger grunted and gave a twist to his hook.
"I'll take Diggle," added Desmond: "you go for the other man."
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:
"You are my prisoner, Mr. Diggle."
At the same moment Bulger had caught the second man by the throat, and raising his formidable hook, cried:
"Heave to, matey, or I'll spoil your mug for you."
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 {bludgeons} 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, each 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 blow, 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.
"What is this, sahib?" he said severely in careful English, addressing Desmond.
"'Tis pretty plain what it is," said Desmond somewhat hotly; "we have been set upon by these six ruffians."
The newcomer motioned with his hand, and the men slunk away.
"I regret, sahib. The men are badmashes; Calcutta is unhappily in a disturbed state."
"Badmashes or not, they came from your house--if this is your house."
"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 {doorkeeper} is at fault."
"And what about the two men?"
"The two men, sahib?"
"Yes, the two Europeans who came first from the house, and were protected by these ruffians?"
"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."
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.
"Come along, Bulger," he said, with an unceremonious gesture to Omichand. "We can do no good here."
"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."
Mr. Merriman looked grave when he heard what had happened.
"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?"
"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."
"'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 tomorrow. But I've something to say to you: something to propose. The Hormuzzeer 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 boat if you can release the goods. Are you willing?"
"I will gladly do anything I can, sir. Indeed, I wished for an opportunity to see something of the country."
"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."
"The Hormuzzeer will not sail until I return?"
"Not till the goods arrive. Why do you ask?"
"I should like to take Bulger with me. He's a good companion, with a shrewd head."
"And a useful hook. I have no objection. You will be ready to start tomorrow, then. You must be up early: traveling will be impossible in the heat of the day."
"At dawn, sir."