thinking, what you're to do. We're badly served with news. We've got
spies, of course; but I don't set much store by native spies in this
country. We've information by the bushel, but when you come to sift it
out there's precious little of it you can trust. And the enemy has got
spies too--hundreds of 'em. I'll bet my boots there's a regular system
of kasids for carrying news of us to Manik Chand and from him to the
Nawab. If the truth was known, I daresay that rascal knows how many
hairs I have on my bald crown under my wig--if that's any interest to
him. Well, I suppose you'll join Mr. Merriman on board one of the
ships. Better chance of escaping the fever there. I'll turn over a
thing or two I have in my mind and send for you when I've done turning."
On the way back to the shore Desmond met the serang who had accompanied
him down the river from Cossimbazar. The man explained that after the
capture of Calcutta his brother Hubbo, the Company's syr serang,[#] had
been impressed into the service of the Nawab, and he himself had been
sent by Hubbo to Fulta to assist the Council and merchants of the
Company. He had there met Mr. Merriman, whom in common with many others
he had believed to be dead. Mr. Merriman, having no immediate need for
his services, had willingly permitted him to take his brother's place in
the employment of the Company.
[#] Head boatman.
Mr. Merriman welcomed Desmond with quite fatherly affection, and
congratulated him heartily on his appointment. The _Hormuzzeer_ being
unlikely, owing to the complete cessation of trade, to make another
voyage for some months to come, he decided to take up his quarters on
board, and Desmond lived with him as a matter of course. Desmond was
shocked to see the change wrought on his friend by the loss of his wife
and daughter. All his gay spirits had left him; he had thinned
perceptibly, and his eyes had that strained look which only a great
sorrow can cause.
"I have been thinking it over, Desmond," he said as they sat in the
cabin, "and I can only conclude that this is one more of Peloti's
villainies. Good God! had he not done me and mine harm enough? Who
else would be so dead to all sense of right, of decency, as to seize
upon two helpless women? My brother was hanged, Desmond; hanging is too
good for that scoundrel; but we cannot touch him; he laughs at us; and I
am helpless--helpless!"
"Like you, sir, I have come to believe that you owe this terrible sorrow
to Diggle--I must always call him that. Don't give up heart, sir. What
his motive is, if he has indeed captured the ladies, I cannot tell. It
may be to use them as hostages in case he gets into trouble with us; it
is impossible to see into the black depths of his mind. But I believe
the ladies are safe, and, please God, I will learn something about them
and maybe bring them back to you."
Desmond waited a couple of days in the hope of receiving a definite task
from Major Killpatrick. But that officer, while an excellent soldier,
was not fertile in expedients. The process of "turning things over in
his mind" did not furnish him with an inspiration. He came on board the
_Hormuzzeer_ one afternoon, and confessed that he didn't see how Desmond
could possibly get up and down the river. Mr. Merriman reminded him
that in the early days of the stay at Fulta, Mr. Robert Gregory had gone
up with requests to the French and Dutch for assistance. Under cover of
a storm he passed Tanna and Calcutta unnoticed by the Nawab's men.
"The French were very polite, but wouldn't move a finger for us," added
Mr. Merriman. "The Dutch were more neighbourly, and sent us some
provisions--badly needed, I assure you. Mr. Gregory is still with them
at Chinsura."
"If he got through, why shouldn't I?" asked Desmond.
"My dear boy," said Killpatrick, "the river is narrowly watched. The
Moors know that Gregory outwitted them; sure no other Englishman could
repeat the trick. And if you were caught, there's no saying how Manik
Chand might serve you. He seems disposed to be friendly, to be sure:
he's made governor of Calcutta now, and wants to feel his feet. But
he's a weak man, by all accounts; and weak men, when they are afraid,
are always cruel. If he caught an Englishman spying out the land he'd
most probably treat him after Oriental methods. In fact, the situation
between him and us is such," concluded the major with a laugh, "that
he'd be quite justified in stringing you up."
Major Killpatrick left without offering any suggestion. When he had gone
Desmond spent an hour or two in "turning things over in his mind." He
felt that the major was well disposed and would probably jump at any
reasonable scheme that was put before him. After a period of quiet
reflection he sought out Hossain the serang and had a long talk with
him. At the conclusion of the interview he went to see Mr. Merriman.
He explained that Hossain wished to return to the service of a former
employer, a native grain merchant in Calcutta, who did a large trade
along the Hugli from the Sanderbands to Murshidabad. The consent of the
Council was required, and Desmond wished Mr. Merriman to arrange the
matter without giving any explanation. The merchant was naturally
anxious to know why Desmond interested himself in the man, and what he
learnt drew from him an instant promise to obtain the Council's consent
without delay. Then Desmond made his way to Major Killpatrick's hut,
and remained closeted with that genial officer till a late hour.
Six weeks later a heavily laden petala, with a dinghy trailing behind,
was dropping down the river above Hugli. Its crew numbered four. One
was Hossain the serang, who had left Fulta with Desmond on the day after
his interview with Major Killpatrick. Two were dark-skinned boatmen,
Bengalis somewhat stupid in appearance. The fourth, who was steering,
was rather lighter in hue, as well as more alert and energetic in mien:
a lascar, as Hossain explained in answer to inquiries along the river.
He had lately been employed on one of the Company's vessels, but it had
been sunk in the Hugli during the siege of Calcutta. He was a handy man
in a boat, and very glad to earn a few pice in this time of stagnant
trade. Things were not looking bright for boatmen on the Hugli; as only
a few vessels had left the river from Chandernagore and Chinsura since
the troubles began, there was little or no opening for men of the
shipwrecked crew.
The petala made fast for the night near the bank, at a spot a little
below Hugli, between that place and Chinsura. When the two Bengalis had
eaten their evening rice, Hossain told them that they might, if they
pleased, take the dinghy and attend a tamasha[#] that was being held in
Chinsura that night in honour of the wedding of one of the Dutch
Company's principal gumashtas. The Bengalis, always ready for an
entertainment of this kind, slipped overboard and were soon rowing down
to Chinsura. Their orders were to be back immediately after the second
watch of the night. Only the lascar and Hossain were left in the boat.
[#] Entertainment.
Ten minutes after the men had disappeared from view, the serang lit a
small oil-lamp in the tiny cabin. He then made his way to the helm,
whispered a word in the lascar's ear, and took his place. The latter
nodded and went into the cabin. Drawing the curtains, he squatted on a
mattress, took from a hiding-place in the cabin a few sheets of paper
and a pencil, and, resting the paper on the back of a tray, began to
write. As he did so he frequently consulted a scrap of paper he kept at
his left hand; it was closely covered with letters and figures, these
latter not Hindustani characters, but the Arabic figures employed by
Europeans. The first line of what he wrote himself ran thus--
29 19 28 19 36 38 32 20 31 39 23 34 19 29 29 35 32 38 24 38 23 32
[#] Constructed from the cipher used by Mr. Watts at Murshidabad.
[Transcriber's note: there was no footnote reference in the source book
for this footnote.]
The letter or message upon which he was engaged was not a lengthy one,
but it took a long time to compose. When it was finished the lascar went
over it line by line, comparing it with the paper at his left hand.
Then he folded it very small, sealed it with a wafer, and, returning to
the serang, said a few words. Hossain made a trumpet of his hands, and,
looking towards the left bank, sounded a few notes in imitation of a
bird's warble. The shore was fringed here with low bushes. As if in
answer to the call a small boat darted out from the shelter of a bush; a
few strokes brought it alongside of the petala; and the serang, bending
over, handed the folded paper to the boatman, and whispered a few words
in his ear. The man pushed off, and the lascar watched the boat float
silently down the stream until it was lost to sight.
Dawn was hardly breaking when Major Killpatrick, awakened by his
servant, received from his hands a folded paper which by the aid of a
candle he began to pore over, laboriously comparing it with a small code
similar to that used by the lascar. One by one he pencilled on a scrap
of paper certain letters, every now and then whistling between his teeth
as he spelt out the words they made. The result appeared thus--
Magazines for ammunition and stores of grain being prepared Tribeni and
Hugli. Bazar rumour Nawab about to march with army to Calcutta. Orders
issued Hugli traffic to be strictly watched. Dutch phataks[#] closed.
Forth unable leave Chinsura. Tanna Fort 9 guns; opposite Tanna 6 guns;
Holwell's garden 5 guns; 4 each Surman's and Ganj; 2 each Mr. Watts'
house, Seth's ghat, Maryas ghat, carpenter's yard.
[#] Gate or barrier.
"Egad!" he exclaimed, on a second reading of the message, "the boy's a
conjurer. This is important enough to send to Mr. Clive at once. But
I'll make a copy of it first in case of accident."
Having made his copy and sealed the original and his first
transcription, he summoned his servant and bade him send for the kasid.
To him he entrusted the papers, directing him to convey them without
loss of time to Clive Sahib, whom he might expect to find at Kalpi.
It was December 13. Two months before, the fleet containing Colonel
Clive and the troops destined for the Bengal expedition had sailed from
Madras. The force consisted of 276 King's troops, 676 of the Company's,
about a thousand sepoys, and 260 lascars. They were embarked on five of
the King's ships, with Admiral Watson in the _Kent_, and as many
Company's vessels. Baffling winds, various mishaps, and the calms usual
at this time of the year had protracted the voyage, so seriously that
the men had to be put on a two-thirds allowance of rations. Many of the
European soldiers were down with scurvy, many of the sepoys actually
died of starvation, having consumed all their rice, and refusing to
touch the meat provided for the British soldiers, for fear of losing
caste. When the Admiral at length arrived at Fulta, he had only six of
the ten ships with which he started, two that had parted company
arriving some ten days later, and two being forced to put back to
Madras, under stress of weather.
While the _Kent_ lay at Kalpi, Clive received the message sent him by
Major Killpatrick, and was visited by Mr. Drake and other members of the
Council, from whom he heard of the sickness among the troops. On
arriving at Fulta he at once went on shore and visited the Major.
"Sorry to hear of your sad case, Mr. Killpatrick," he said. "We're very
little better off. But we must make the best of it. I got your note.
'Twas an excellent greeting. Young Burke is a capital fellow; I have
not mistook his capacity."
"Faith, 'twas what I told him, sir. I said Colonel Clive never mistook
his men."
"Well, if that's true, what you said won't make him vain. This
information is valuable: you see that. Have you heard anything more
from the lad?"
"Nothing, sir."
"And you can't communicate with him?"
"No, 'twas his scheme only to send messages; to receive them would
double the risk."
"So: 'twas his scheme, not yours?"
"Egad, sir, I've no head for that sort of thing," said Killpatrick with
a laugh. "Give me a company, and a wall to scale or a regiment to
charge, and----"
"My dear fellow," interrupted Clive, "we all know the King has no better
officer. Credit where credit is due, major, and you're not the man to
grudge this youngster his full credit for an uncommonly daring and
clever scheme. Did you see him in his disguise?"
"I did, sir, and at a distance he took in both Mr. Merriman and myself."
"Well, he's a boy to keep an eye on, and I only hope that tigers or
dacoits or the Nawab's Moors won't get hold of him; he's the kind of lad
we can't spare. Now, let me know the state of your troops."
When he had sent off his note to Major Killpatrick, Desmond enjoyed a
short spell on deck preparatory to turning in. Hossain was placidly
smoking his hubble-bubble; from the far bank of the Hugli came the
mingled sounds of tom-toms and other instruments; near the boat all was
quiet, the wavelets of the stream lapping idly against the sides, the
stillness broken only by the occasional howl of a jackal prowling near
the bank in quest of the corpses of pious Hindus consigned to the sacred
waters of the Ganges.
Desmond was half dozing when he was startled into wakefulness by a
sudden clamour from the native town. He heard shots, loud cries, the
hideous blare of the Bengal trumpets. For half an hour the shouts
continued intermittently; then they gradually died away. Wondering
whether the tamasha had ended in a tumult, Desmond was about to seek his
couch when, just beneath him, as it seemed, he heard a voice--a feeble
cry for help. He sprang up and looked over the side. Soon a dark head
appeared on the water. With a cry to the serang to cast loose and row
after him, Desmond took a header into the stream, and in a few strokes
gained the drowning man's side. He was clearly exhausted. Supporting
him with one arm, Desmond struck out with the other, and being a strong
swimmer he reached the stern of the boat even before the serang had
slipped his moorings. With Hossain's aid he lifted the man into the
boat, and carried him to the cabin. He was all but unconscious. A
mouthful of arrack[#] from the serang's jar revived him. No sooner was
he in command of his breath than he implored his rescuers for their help
and protection. He had escaped, he said, from Hugli Fort, not without a
gun-shot wound behind his shoulder. He spoke in Bengali. Seeing that
he was too much exhausted and agitated to tell his story that night,
Desmond bade the serang assure him of his safety. Then they made shift
to tend his wound, and, comforting him with food and drink, left him to
sleep and recover.
[#] A fermented liquor made from rice or the juice of the palm.
The two Bengalis who had been to Chinsura returned before they were
expected. They had been alarmed by the uproar. As soon as they were
aboard Desmond decided to drop a mile or two farther down the river.
The boat coming to a ghat below Chandernagore, the serang ordered the
men to pull in, and tied up for the rest of the night.
In the morning the Bengalis were despatched on some errand along the
bank, and the coast being clear Desmond went with the serang to the
wounded man to learn particulars of his escape. The Bengali had now
almost wholly recovered, and was very voluble in his gratitude for his
rescue. While he was speaking the boat slightly shifted her position,
and the Bengali suddenly caught sight, through the matting, of a large
house beyond the ghat. He uttered an exclamation of fear, and begged the
serang with frantic waving of the hands to leave the spot at once.
"Why, O brother, this fear?" asked Hossain.
"I will tell you. It is a great fear. Just before the coming of the
rains I was at Khulna. There I was hired by the head serang of a lady
travelling to Calcutta. She was the wife of a burra sahib of the great
Company, and with her was her daughter. All went well until we came
near Chandernagore; we struck a snag; the boat sprang a leak; we feared
the bibis would be drowned. We rowed to this very ghat; a sahib
welcomed the ladies; they went into his house yonder. Presently he sent
for us; we lodged with his servants; but in the night we were set upon,
bound, and carried to Hugli. False witnesses accused us of being
dacoits; we were condemned; and I was confined with others in the
prison.
"Always since then have I looked for a chance of escape. It came at
last. Some of the jailers went last night to the tamasha at Chinsura.
I stole out and got away. A sentry fired upon me, and hit me; but I am
a good swimmer and I plunged into the river. You know all that happened
then, O serang, and I beseech you leave this place; it is a dreadful
place; some harm will come to us all."
Desmond's knowledge of Bengali was as yet slight, and he caught only
portions of the man's narrative. But he understood enough to convince
him that he was at last on the track of the missing ladies; and when,
shortly afterwards, Hossain gave him in Urdu the whole of the story, he
determined at once to act on the information. On the return of the two
Bengalis, he arranged with the serang to set them at work on some
imaginary repairs to the boat: that pretext for delay was as good as
another. Then, Hossain having reassured the fugitive, he himself landed
and made his way up to the house.
It was closed. There was no sign of its being inhabited. But about a
hundred yards from the gate Desmond saw a basti, and from one of the
huts smoke was issuing. He sauntered up. Before the door, lolling in
unstudied deshabille, squatted a bearded Mohammedan, whom from his
rotundity Desmond guessed to be the khansaman of the big house.
"Salaam aleikam,[#] khansaman!" said Desmond suavely. "Pardon the
curiosity of an ignorant sailor from Gujarat. What nawab owns the great
house yonder?"
[#] Peace be with you!
The khansaman, beaming in acknowledgment of the implied compliment to
his own importance, replied:
"To Sinfray Sahib, worthy khalasi."
"The great Sinfray Sahib of Chandernagore? Surely that is a strange
thing!"
"Strange! What is strange? That Sinfray Sahib should own so fine a
house? You should see his other house in Chandernagore: then indeed you
might lift your eyes in wonder."
"Nay, indeed, I marvelled not at that, for Sinfray Sahib is indeed a
great man. We who dwell upon the kala pani know well his name. Is it
not known in the bazars in Pondicherry and Surat? But I marvel at this,
khansaman: that on one day, this day of my speaking to you, I should
meet the sahib's most trusty servant, as I doubt not you are, and also
the man who has sworn revenge upon the owner of this house--ay, and on
all the household."
"Bismillah!"[#] exclaimed the khansaman, spitting out his supari. He
was thoroughly interested, but as yet unconcerned. "What do you mean,
khalasi?"
[#] "In the name of Allah!"--a common exclamation.
"I parted but now, on the river, from a fellow-boatman who of late has
lain in prison at Hugli, put there, they say, by order of Sinfray Sahib.
He is not a dacoit; no man less so; but false witnesses rose up against
him. And, I bethink me, he said that the sahib's khansaman was one of
these men with lying lips. Surely he was in error; for your face, O
khansaman, is open as the sun, your lips are fragrant with the very
attar of truth. But he is filled with rage and fury; in his madness he
will not tarry to inquire. If he should meet you--well, it is the will
of Allah: no man can escape his fate."
The khansaman, as Desmond spoke, looked more and more distressed; and at
the last words his face was livid.
"It is not true," he said. "But I know the blind fury of revenge. Do
thou entreat him for me. I will pay thee well. I have saved a few
pice.[#] It will be worth five rupees to thee; and to make amends to
the madman, I will give him fifty rupees, even if it strips me of all I
have. Allah knows it was not my doing; it was forced upon me."
[#] Coin, value one-eighth of a penny.
"How could that be, khansaman?" said Desmond, letting pass the man's
contradictory statements.
"It is not necessary to explain; my word is my word."
"No doubt; but so enraged is the khalasi I speak of that unless I can
explain to him fully he will not heed me. Never shall I dissuade him
from his purpose."
"It is the will of Allah!" said the khansaman resignedly. "I will tell
you. It was not Sinfray Sahib at all. He was at the Nawab's court at
Murshidabad. He had lent his house to a friend while he was absent.
The friend had a spite against Merriman Sahib, the merchant at Calcutta;
and when the bibi and the chota bibi came down the river he seized them.
Sinfray Sahib believes there was an attack by dacoits; but the bibi's
peons were carried away by the sahib's friend: it was he that brought
the evidence against them. The Angrezi sahib induced me to swear
falsely by avouching that Sinfray Sahib was also an enemy of Merriman
Sahib; but when the judge had said his word the sahib bade me keep
silence with my master, for he was ignorant of it all. The Angrezi
sahib is a terrible man: what could I do? I was afraid to speak."
"And what was the name of the Angrezi sahib?"
"His name?--It was Higli--no, Digli Sahib--accursed be the day I first
saw him!"
Desmond drew a long breath.
"And what became of the bibi and the chota bibi?"
"They were taken away."
"Whither?"
"I do not know."
The answer was glib; Desmond thought a little too glib.
"Why then, khansaman," he said, "I fear it would be vain for me to
reason with the man I spoke of. He has eaten the salt of Merriman
Sahib; his lord's injury is his also. But you acted for the best.
Allah hafiz! that will be a morsel of comfort even if this man's knife
should find its way between your ribs. Not every dying man has such
consolation. Live in peace, good khansaman."
Desmond, who had been squatting in the Oriental manner--an
accomplishment he had learnt with some pains at Gheria--rose to leave.
The khansaman's florid cheeks again put on a sickly hue, and when the
seeming lascar had gone a few paces he called him back.
"Ahi, excellent khalasi! I think--I remember--I am almost sure I can
discover where the two bibis are concealed."
"Inshallah![#] That is indeed fortunate," said Desmond, turning back.
"There lies the best chance of averting the wrath of this much-wronged
man."
[#] "Please God!"--a common exclamation.
"Wait but a little till I have clad myself duly; I will then go to a
friend yonder and inquire."
He went into his hut and soon returned clothed in the garments that
befitted his position. Walking to a hut at the end of the block, he
made pretence, Desmond suspected, of inquiring. He was soon back.
"Allah is good!" he said. "The khitmatgar yonder tells me they were
taken to a house three coss[#] distant, belonging to the great faujdar
Manik Chand. It is rented from him by Digli Sahib, who is a great
friend of his excellency."
[#] The coss is nearly two miles.
"Well, khansaman, you will show me the way to the house."
But the khansaman appeared to have donned, with his clothes, a sense of
his own importance. The authoritative tone of the lascar offended his
dignity.
"Who are you, scum of the sea, that you tell a khansaman of Bengal what
he shall do? Hold your tongue, piece of seaweed, or by the beard of the
Prophet----"
The threat was never completed, for Desmond, stepping up close to the
man, caught him by the back of the neck and shook him till his teeth
rattled in his head.
"Quick! Lead the way! Foolish khansaman, do you want your fat body
shaken to a jelly? That is the way with us khalasis from Gujarat.
Quick, I say!"
"Hold, khalasi!" panted the khansaman; "I will do what you wish.
Believe me, you are the first khalasi from Gujarat I have seen----"
"Or you would not have delayed so long. Quick, man!"
With a downcast air the man set off. The sun was getting high; being
fat and soft, the khansaman was soon in distress. But Desmond allowed
him no respite. In about two hours they arrived at the house he had
mentioned. The gate was ajar; the door broken open. Hastily entering,
Desmond knew instinctively by the appearance of the place that it was
deserted.