same.
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."