not tell me as we came up that there is a gumashta[#] of the Company at
Santipur?"
[#] Agent.
"Certainly I did, sir."
"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."
[#] Bullock-carts.
"That is good counsel, sir; why should we not do so?"
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.
"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?"
The men salaamed and started on their journey.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND
*In which is given a full, true, and particular account of the Battle of
the Carts.*
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.
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.
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.
"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."
"I will not stay here," protested the Armenian, his face livid with
anger.
"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."
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.
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.
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.
[#] Headman.
[#] Barges.
"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."
"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."
"My good man, there's no need to carry it too far. Do as you please,
only take care of the goods."
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
[#] Grooms.
"Eo, hackeriwallah," he said in Urdu to the rearmost driver, "to whom do
these hackeris belong?"
"To the great Company, huzur. The sahib will tell you."
"The sahib!--what sahib?" asked the rider in astonishment.
"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.
"By thunder! 'tis that villain Diggle!" he shouted, and rushed forward
to drag him from his horse.
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.
"You were a fool, Bulger," said Desmond testily. "This may lead to no
end of trouble."
Bulger looked penitent, and wrathful, and overwhelmed.
"We must try to hurry," added Desmond to Surendra Nath. "Promise the
men more bakshish: don't stint."
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.
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.
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.
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.
"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."
"I do not like to show the white feather, sir," said the Babu.
"Not at all, Babu, we must have a trustworthy messenger: you are the
man. Now get away as fast as you can."
The Babu departed on his errand with the speed of gladness and relief.
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?
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.
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.
"Your disguise is excellent," said Diggle in his smoothest tones; "but I
believe I speak to Mr. Desmond Burke."
"Yes, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, stepping forward.
"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."
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.
"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?"
"Of Hugli."
"Has the Faujdar of Hugli power to countermand what the Faujdar of the
capital has done?"
"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."
"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?"
"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."
"And what about myself, Mr. Diggle?"
"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."
"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?"
"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 _persona grata_ at the court of Murshidabad, with wealth and honours
in your grasp."
"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----"
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.
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 _Good Intent_, 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.
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 _Good Intent_,
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.
"Blockheads! cowards!" shouted Diggle in a fury. "Push on, you dogs; we
are four to one!"