journey down the Hugli little to his liking.
The short twilight was thickening into darkness when Desmond, with face,
legs, and arms stained brown, slipped out of the fort in native dress and
walked slowly towards the houses of the native merchants. In his hand he
carried a small bundle. Reaching the house where his party was staying,
kept by one Abdul Kader, he almost betrayed himself by forgetting to slip
off his sandals as he entered. But he bethought himself in time and was
admitted without question.
He found that he was not a moment too soon. Bulger had taken up his
quarters there with a very bad grace, the arrival of the Nawab's army
having aroused in him the fighting spirit of the sturdy British tar. But
when the news ran through the settlement that the fort was to be given up
his feelings overcame him, and it was only with the greatest difficulty
that Surendra Nath had persuaded him to wait patiently for orders from
Desmond. Then the Babu himself had quitted the house, and Bulger was left
without the restraint of anyone who could speak English. He was on the
point of casting off all prudence and stalking out, like Achilles from
his tent, when Desmond arrived.
"By thunder, sir!" he said, when he had recovered from his astonishment
at seeing Desmond in native dress, "I en't a-goin' to surrender to no
Moors, sure as my name's Bulger. 'Tis a downright scandalous shame;
that's what I call it."
"Well, you can tell Mr. Watts so if ever you see him. At present we have
no time to waste in talk. Where is Surendra Nath?"
"Gone to keep his weather eye on the codger's godown, sir."
"Which shows he's a man of sense. Are all the men here?"
"So far as I know, sir. I may be wrong."
"Well, they'll make their way in small parties down to the river. 'Tis
dark enough now; they will not be noticed, and they can steal along the
bank under the trees until they come near Coja Solomon's ghat. You must
come with me."
"Very good, sir," replied Bulger, hitching up his breeches and drawing
his hanger.
"But not like that. You'll have to get those black whiskers of yours
shaved, my man. If they grew all over you'd pass perhaps for a Moor; but
not with a fringe like that. And you must stain your face; I have the
stuff in this bundle; and we'll borrow a dhoti and sandals from Abdul
Kader. We'll dress you up between us."
Bulger looked aghast.
"Dash my buttons, sir, I'll look like a November guy! What would my mates
say, a-seein' me dressed up like a stuffed Moor at Smithfield fair--a
penny a shy, sir?"
"Your mates are not here to see you, and if you hold your tongue they'll
never know it."
"But what about this little corkscrew o' mine, sir? I don't see any ways
o' dressin' that up."
"You can stick it into your dhoti. Now here are soap and a razor; I give
you ten minutes to shave and get your face stained; Abdul Kader will
help. Quick's the word, man."
A quarter of an hour later Desmond left the house with Bulger, the
latter, in spite of the darkness, looking very much ashamed of himself.
The other members of the party had already gone towards the river.
Walking very slowly until they had safely cleared the lines of the
investing troops, the two hurried their pace and about half-past eight
reached the Armenian godown. The three boats containing Mr. Merriman's
goods were moored at the ghat. A number of men were on board, and bales
were still being carried down by the light of torches. It appeared that
Coja Solomon had no intention of leaving until the factory was actually
in Rai Durlabh's hands.
Desmond had already decided that, to legalize his position, he must gain
possession of the dastaks. Not that they would help him much if, as was
only too probable, Coja Solomon should be backed up by the Nawab. As soon
as it was discovered that the goods had been carried off, kasids would
undoubtedly be sent along the banks, possibly swift boats would set off
down the river in pursuit, and, dastaks or no dastaks, the goods would be
impounded at Khulna or Hugli and himself arrested. It was therefore of
the first importance that the loss of the boats should not be discovered
until he was well on his way, and to insure this he must secure the
person of Coja Solomon. If that could be done there was a chance of
delaying the pursuit, or preventing it altogether.
Desmond kept well in the shelter of the palm trees as he made his
observation of the ghat. He wondered where Surendra Nath was, but could
not waste time in looking for him. Retracing his steps with Bulger for a
little distance, he came to a spot on the river bank where the rest of
his party were waiting in a boat, moored to an overhanging tree. He
ordered the men to land; then, leaving Bulger in charge of them, he
selected three of the armed peons and with them made his way across paddy
{rice} fields toward the Armenian's house, a hundred yards or so from the
bank.
Light came through the reed-screened window. Bidding the men remain
outside and rush in if he called them, he left the shelter of the trees
and, approaching the door, stumbled over the darwan lying across the
threshold.
"Hai, darwan!" he said, with the bluntness of servant addressing servant;
"sleeping again! Go and tell your master I'm here to see him: a
khitmatgar from the fort."
The man rose sleepily and preceded him into the house. He made the
announcement, salaamed and retired. Desmond went in.
In a little room on the ground floor Coja Solomon reclined on a divan,
smoking his hubblebubble. A small oil lamp burnt on a bracket above his
head. He looked up as Desmond entered; if he thought that his visitor was
somewhat better set-up than the average khitmatgar, he did not suspect
any disguise. The light was dim, and Coja Solomon was old.
"Good evening, Khwaja," said Desmond quietly.
The man jumped as if shot.
"No, don't get up, and don't make a noise. My business with you will not
take long. I will ask you to hand over Mr. Merriman's dastaks. I know
that they are in your possession. I have come to get them, and to take
away the goods--Mr. Merriman's goods."
The Armenian had meanwhile removed the mouthpiece of his hubblebubble,
and was bending over as if to replace it by one of several that lay on a
shelf at his right hand. But Desmond noticed that beneath the shelf stood
a small gong. He whipped out a pistol, and pointed it full at the
merchant.
"Don't touch that," he said curtly. "I have not come unprepared, as you
see. Your plans are known to me. If you value your life you will do as I
wish, without delay or disturbance. My men are outside; a word from me
will bring them swarming in. Now, the dastaks!"
Coja Solomon was an Armenian and a merchant; in neither capacity a
fighting man. In a contest of wits he could be as cool and as ready as
any man in Bengal; but he had no skill in arms and no physical courage.
There was an air of determination about his visitor that impressed him;
and he felt by no means comfortable within point-blank range of the
pistol covering him so completely. If his thoughts had been read, they
would have run somewhat thus: "Pistols have been known to go off
accidentally. What will the goods profit me if such an accident happen
now? Besides, even if I yield there may still be a chance of saving them.
It is a long way to Calcutta: the river is low: God be praised the rains
have not begun! There are shallows and rocks along its course: the boats
must go slowly: and the Nawab's horsemen can soon outstrip them on the
banks. The dog of an Englishman thinks he has outwitted me: we shall see.
And he is only a youth: let us see if Coja Solomon is not a match for
him."
Rising to his feet, he smiled and shrugged, and spread out his hands
deprecatingly.
"It is true the dastaks are here," he said suavely, "but they only
reached me yesterday, and indeed, as soon as I received them, I had the
goods put on board the boats for transit to Calcutta."
"That is very fortunate," said Desmond. "It will save my time. As Mr.
Merriman's representative I will take over the goods--with the dastaks."
"If you will excuse me, I will fetch them."
"Stay!" said Desmond, as the man moved toward the door. He had not
lowered the pistol. "Where are they?"
"They are in my office beside the godown."
"Very well. It would be a pity to trouble you to bring them here. I will
go with you. Will you lead the way?"
He knew it was a lie. Valuable papers would not be left in a hut of an
office, and he had already noticed a curiously wrought almara {cabinet}
at one end of the room--just the place to keep documents.
There was the shadow of a scowl on the Armenian's face. The man
hesitated; then walked towards the door: stopped as if at a sudden
recollection; and turned to Desmond with a bland smile.
"I was forgetting," he said, "I brought the papers here for safety's
sake."
He went to the almara, searched for a moment, and handed two papers to
Desmond.
"There, sir," he said, with a quite paternal smile; "you take the
responsibility. In these unfortunate circumstances"--he waved his hand in
the direction of the factory--"it is, believe me, a relief to me to see
the last of these papers.
"That is well."
But Desmond, as he took the papers, felt himself in a quandary. Though he
could speak, he could not read Hindustani! The papers might not be the
dastaks after all. What was he to do?
The peons were not likely to be able to read. He scanned the papers.
There was the name Merriman in English characters, but all the rest was
in native script. The smile hovering on the Armenian's face annoyed
Desmond, and he was still undecided what to do when a voice at his elbow
gave him welcome relief.
"Babu Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti," announced the darwan.
The Babu entered.
"Come and tell me if these are our dastaks," said Desmond.
The Babu ran his eyes over the papers, and declared:
"Yes, sir, they are the identical papers, and I perceive the signature of
the Faujdar is dated three weeks ago."
"Thank you," said Desmond.
"Now, Coja Solomon, I must ask you to come with me."
"Why, sir--" began the Armenian, no longer smiling.
"I will explain to you by and by.--
"What is it, Surendra Nath?"
The Babu whispered a word or two in his ear.
"A happy thought!" said Desmond. "Surendra Nath suggests that I should
borrow that excellent robe I see yonder, Khwaja; and your turban also.
They will become me better than this khitmatgar's garb, I doubt not."
Coja Solomon looked on helplessly as Desmond exchanged his meaner
garments for the richer clothes of his unwilling host.
"Now we will go. You will tell the darwan that you have gone down to the
ghat, so that if a question is asked he will be at no loss for an
answer."
In the faint light of the rising moon the barrel of the pistol gleamed as
they came into the open. The Armenian marched between Desmond and the
Babu. Behind came the three peons, moving as silently as ghosts.
"The Khwaja," said Desmond to them in the Armenian's hearing, as they
reached the ghat, "is coming a little way with us down the river.
"You, Kristodas Das, will go and tell Bulger Sahib that I wish him to
follow the Khwaja's boats at a few yards' distance, and to be prepared to
board at any moment.
"You," turning to the other two peons, "will come with me. The Khwaja
will send word to his durwan that he is going to Murshidabad by river and
will not return tonight; his house is to be locked up. The Khwaja will, I
am sure, give these orders correctly, for Surendra Nath will understand
better than I what he says."
With the Babu, the two peons, and Coja Solomon, who was now obviously ill
at ease, Desmond went down the ghat to the place where the crews of the
petalas were assigned to him. The man dared not depart by a jot from the
words put into his mouth. One of his coolies left with the message, the
rest followed their employer on board with Desmond and his companions,
and in a few minutes the three boats were cast off and stood upstream. As
they started Desmond saw the boat containing Bulger and his men slip from
the shade of the trees and begin to creep after them.
The boats had not gone more than a couple of hundred yards upstream when
Coja Solomon, at Desmond's orders, bade the men row toward the opposite
shore and turn the boats' heads round, explaining that he had decided
after all to convey the goods to Hugli. There was some grumbling among
the crew, who had expected to go to Murshidabad, and did not relish the
prospect of the longer voyage. But the Armenian, knowing that every word
was overheard by Desmond's men, made haste to pacify the boatmen.
It was by no means easy work getting down the river. The boats were flat
bottomed and drew very little water; but the stream being very low, they
stuck fast time after time in the shallows. By day the boatmen might have
picked their way more carefully, but the moon was new and shed too little
light for river navigation. More than once they had to leap overboard
and, wading, shove and haul until the boats came off the mud banks into
practicable water again. They rowed hard when the course was clear,
encouraged by promises of liberal bakshish made by their employer at
Desmond's prompting. But the interruptions were so frequent that the dawn
found the boats only some thirty miles from their starting-point. The
river being here a little deeper, Desmond could afford to let the rowers
take a much-needed rest, while the boats floated down with the stream.
But as the day wore on the river again played them false, and progress
was at times reduced to scarcely more than two miles an hour. Things had
been uncomfortable in the night, but the discomforts were increased
tenfold in the day. It was the hottest season of the year; out of the
clear sky the sun's rays beat down with pitiless ferocity; the whole
landscape was a-quiver with heat; all things seemed to swoon under the
oppression. The petalas, being cargo boats, were not provided with any
accommodation or conveniences for passengers; and Desmond's thoughts as
he lay panting on his mat, haggard from want of sleep, faint from want of
food--for though there was rice on board, and the men ate freely, he had
no appetite for that--reverted to the worst period of his imprisonment in
Gheria, and he recalled the sufferings he had endured there.
Here at least he was free. His journey had so far been unmolested, and he
hoped that the happy chance that had favored him at Cossimbazar would not
fail him now.
He was in a fever of impatience; yet the men were doing their best. They
passed the mud walls of Cutwa; another stage of the journey was safely
completed; but twelve miles lower down there was a post at Path; and with
every mile the danger grew.
Desmond talked over the situation with the Babu. Surendra Nath agreed
that by nightfall, if no unforeseen delay occurred, they might hope to be
in the neighborhood of Khulna, and arrive there before any messenger
carrying news of the escape.
But there was little or no chance of the same good fortune at Hugli. The
prize was so valuable that every effort would certainly be made to stop
them. A whole day or more might pass before the reason of Coja Solomon's
absence was discovered. But when the discovery was made fast runners
would be sent to Khulna and Hugli, and by relays the distance between
Cossimbazar and Hugli could be covered in twenty-four hours. Supposing
such a messenger started at nightfall on June fifth, nearly twenty-four
hours after Coja Solomon's disappearance, he might well get to Hugli long
before the fugitive boats, even if they were rowed all night without
cessation; and the men were already so much fatigued that such continuous
exertion could hardly be expected of them.
There was a further danger. If the news of the capture of Cossimbazar
Fort had preceded him, he might be stopped at any of the riverside places
without any reference to Coja Solomon's abduction, pending orders from
the Nawab. Desmond's anxiety would have been largely increased had he
known that Sirajuddaula, before his men had actually marched into the
fort, had already started with the bulk of his forces on his fateful
march to Calcutta.
Desmond was still in conversation with the Babu when the little flotilla
came in sight of Patli. Its approach was observed. A boat put off from
the ghat, and awaited the arrival of Desmond's boat in midstream. As it
came alongside an official ordered the men to cease rowing and demanded
to know who was the owner of the goods on board and to see the dastaks.
The Babu, to whom Desmond had intrusted the papers, showed them to the
man; he scanned them, said that he was satisfied, and rowed back to the
ghat.
Evidently he had no suspicions. During the short colloquy Desmond kept
close beside the Armenian, who was well known to the riverside official;
but Coja Solomon was thoroughly scared, and had not the presence of mind
to do anything more than to acknowledge the customary salaam.
Desmond breathed freely once more now that Path was passed. But
two-thirds of the journey still remained to be completed, and he dare not
hope that at his slow rate of progress he would be able always to keep
ahead of information from Cossimbazar. Seeing that he could not hasten
his journey, he wondered whether it was possible to put pursuers off the
scent. After thinking for a while he said to the Babu, out of hearing of
the Armenian:
"I have an idea, Surendra Nath: tell me what you think of it. Did you not
tell me as we came up that there is a gumashta {agent} of the Company at
Santipur?"
"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 {bullock carts}?
We could transfer the goods to them and elude our pursuers perhaps long
enough for help to arrive from Calcutta."
"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 Lal," 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 tomorrow's dawn. He must get them from the
villages, not from Khulna or Amboa, and he must not tell anyone 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.