Chapter THE TENTH (6)

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 learnt 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 harbour. Desmond had no doubt that this was Diggle's boy Scipio Africanus. And when he mentioned the connexion 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, at the end of the first week in March, when the vessel stood out of Bombay harbour, Desmond sailed with her.

The weather was calm, but the winds not wholly favourable, 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 then 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 things of that sort, and won't be satisfied until he has us under his heel. Only his trading profits and his fear of the Mogul have kept him civil."

"But you said he was dying."

"So he is, and that makes matters worse, for his grandson, Siraj-uddaula, who'll probably succeed him, is no better than a tiger. He lives at Murshidabad, about 100 miles up the river. He's a vain, peacocky, empty-headed youth, and as soon as the breath is out of his grandad'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 for ever."

"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 women folk: 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 30th 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 tigers," 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 coloured sashes--and don't our women squabble about the colours, 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.[#] "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.

[#] Landing-stage.

"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,[#] and the chota[#] bibi?"

[#] Lady: _mem-sahib_ was not yet in use.

[#] Young.

"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; Siraj-uddaula 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 have 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-storey 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[#]; 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."

[#] Factotum.

"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 know. 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, Siraj-uddaula, 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 Siraj-uddaula 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 defences 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 defences 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,[#] where he found a large staff under the superintendence of the muhri,[#] 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.

[#] Office.

[#] Chief clerk.

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[#] house, surrounded by a compound and a low wall.

[#] Substantial.

"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. Eyre, 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 learnt, 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 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 centre of the enclosure. Around it on three sides were the houses of individual merchants and officers. A wide avenue known as the Lai Bazar led from the ravelin of the fort past the court-house to the native part of the town. On one side of the avenue was the Park or Lai 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. Every one 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 a few 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 landing 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 some one 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 sad 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 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 o' 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 to-day. Never did I see sich a sight all the years I've been afloat, an' that's sayin' 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 country 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 come 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[#] 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 impassible to mistake the gloved right hand. It was Diggle to a certainty.

[#] Hanging screens made of thin strips of bamboo.

"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[#] 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, 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 thrust, 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.

[#] Bludgeons.

"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 new-comer 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 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 to-morrow. 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 boats 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 to-morrow, then. You must be up early: travelling will be impossible in the heat of the day."

"At dawn, sir."

CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH

*In which there are recognitions and explanations; and our hero meets one Coja Solomon, of Cossimbazar*

At sunrise next morning Desmond found his party awaiting him at the Causeway beyond the Maratha ditch. The natives salaamed when he came up in company with Mr. Merriman, and Bulger pulled his forelock.

"Mornin,' sir; mornin'; I may be wrong, but 'tis my belief we're goin' to have a bilin' hot day, and I've come accordin'."

He was clad in nothing but shirt and breeches, with his coat strapped to his back, and a hat apparently improvised out of cabbage leaves. The natives were all in white, with their employer's pink ribands. Some were armed with matchlocks and pikes; others carried light cooking utensils; others groceries for the Englishmen's use; for their own food they depended on the villages through which they would pass.

"Well, I wish you a good journey," said Mr. Merriman, who appeared to be in better spirits than for many a day. "I'm glad to tell you, Burke, that I got a letter from Mr. Watts this morning, saying that my wife and daughter are on their way down the river with Mrs. Watts and her children. They've got Mr. Warren Hastings to escort them; trust 'em to find a handsome man! The road follows the river, and if you look out I dare say you will see them. You'll recognize our livery. Introduce yourself if you meet 'em. You have your letter for Mr. Watts? That's all right. Good-bye, and good luck to you."

The party set off. The old road by which they were to travel ran at a short distance from the left bank of the Hugli, passing through an undulating country, interspersed with patches of low wood and scattered trees. The scenery was full of charm for Desmond: the rich vegetation; antelopes darting among the trees; flamingoes and pelicans standing motionless at the edge of the slow-gliding stream; white-clad figures coming down the broad steps of the riverside ghats to bathe; occasionally the dusky corpse of some devotee consigned by his relations to the bosom of the holy river.

The first halt was called at Barrakpur, where, amid a luxuriant grove of palms and bamboos, stood some beautiful pagodas, built of the unburnt brick of the country, and faced with a fine stucco that gleamed in the sunlight like polished marble. Here, under the shade of the palms, Desmond lay through the hot afternoon, watching the boats of all shapes and sizes that floated lazily down the broad-bosomed stream. In the evening the march was resumed, the party crossed the river by a ford at Pulta Ghat, and following the road on the other bank came at sundown to the outskirts of the French settlement at Chandernagore. There they camped for the night. Desmond was for some time tormented by the doleful yells of packs of jackals roaming abroad in search of food. Their cries so much resembled those of human beings in dire agony that he shivered on his mattress; but falling asleep at length, he slept soundly and woke with the dawn.

He started again soon after sunrise. Just beyond Chandernagore Bulger pointed out the stripped spars of the _Good Intent_, lying far up a narrow creek.

"Wouldn't I just like to cut her out?" said Bulger. "But 'spose we can't stop for that, sir?"

"Certainly not. And you'd have the French about our ears."

Passing the Dutch settlement at Chinsura, he came into a country of paddy fields, now bare, broken by numerous nullahs worn by the torrents in the rainy season, but now nearly dry. Here and there the party had to ford a jhil,--an extensive shallow lake formed by the rains. Desmond tried a shot or two at the flights of teal that floated on these ponds; but they were so wild that he could never approach within range. Towards evening, after passing the little village of Amboa, they came to a grove of peepuls filled with green parrots and monkeys screaming and jabbering as though engaged in a competition. A few miles farther on they arrived at the larger village of Khulna, where they tied up for the night.

Next morning Desmond was wakened by Surendra Nath.

"Sahib," he said, "the bibi and the chota bibi are here."

"Mrs. Merriman?"

"Yes. They arrived last night by boat, and are pursuing their journey to-day."

"I should like to see them before they go. But I'm afraid I am hardly presentable."

"Believe me, sahib, you will not offend the bibi's punctilio."

"Well, send one of the peons to say that I shall have the pleasure of waiting on Mrs. Merriman in half an hour, if she will permit me."

Having shaved and bathed, and donned a change of clothes, Desmond set off accompanied by Surendra Nath to visit the ladies. He found them on a long shallow boat, in a cabin constructed of laths and mats filling one end of the light craft. The Babu made the introduction, then effaced himself. A lady, whose voice seemed to waken an echo in Desmond's memory, said:

"How do you do, Mr. Burke? I have heard of you in my husband's letters. Is the dear man well?"

"He is in good health, ma'am, but somewhat anxious to have you back again."

"Dear man! What is he anxious about? Mr. Watts seemed anxious also to get rid of us. He was vexed that Mrs. Watts is too much indisposed to accompany us. And Mr. Warren Hastings, who was to escort us, was quite angry because he had to go to one of the out-factories instead. I do not understand why these gentlemen are so much disturbed."

Desmond saw that Mrs. Merriman had been deliberately kept in ignorance of the grounds of the Englishmen's anxiety, and was seeking on the spur of the moment for a means to divert her from the subject, when he was spared the necessity. Miss Merriman had been looking at him curiously, and she now turned to her mother and said something in a tone inaudible to Desmond.

"La! you don't say so, my dear," exclaimed the lady. "Why, Mr. Burke, my daughter tells me that we have met you before."

His vague recollection of Mrs. Merriman's voice being thus so suddenly confirmed, he recalled, as from a far distant past, a scene upon Hounslow Heath; a coach that stood perilously near the ditch, a girl at the horses' heads, a lady stamping her foot at two servants wrestling in drunken stupidity on the ground.

"You never gave us an opportunity of thanking you," continued Mrs. Merriman. "'Twas not kind of you, Mr. Burke, to slip away thus without a word after doing two poor lone women such a service."

"Indeed, ma'am, 'twas with no discourteous intention, but seeing you were safe with your friends I--I--in short, ma'am----"

Desmond stopped in confusion, at a loss for a satisfactory explanation. The ladies were smiling.

"You thought to flee our acknowledgments," said Mrs. Merriman. "La, la, I know; I have a young brother of my own. But you shall not escape them now, and what is more, I shall see that Merriman, poor man, adds his, for I am sure he has forgiven you your exploit."

The younger lady laughed outright, while Desmond looked from one to the other. What did they mean?

"Indeed, ma'am," he said, "I had no idea----"

"That there was need for forgiveness?" said the lady, taking him up. "But indeed there was--eh, Phyllis? Mr. Burke," she added, with a sudden solemnity, "a few minutes after you left us at Soho Square Merriman rode up, and I assure you I nearly swooned, poor man! and hardly had strength to send for the surgeon. It needed three stitches--and he such a handsome man, too."

A horrid suspicion flashed through Desmond's mind. He remembered the scar on Mr. Merriman's brow, and that it was a scarcely healed wound when he met him with Clive on that unfortunate occasion in Billiter Street.

"Surely, ma'am, you don't mean--the highwayman?"

"Indeed I do. That is just it. Your highwayman was--Mr. Merriman. Fancy the hurt to his feelings, to say nothing of his good looks. Fie, fie, Mr. Burke!"

For a moment Desmond did not know whether embarrassment or amazement was uppermost with him. It was bad enough to have tripped Mr. Merriman up in the muddy street; but to have also dealt him a blow of which he would retain the mark to his dying day--"This is terrible!" he thought. Still there was an element of absurdity in the adventure that appealed to his sense of the ridiculous. But he felt the propriety of being apologetic, and was about to express his regret for his mistake when Mrs. Merriman interrupted him with a smile:

"But there, Mr. Burke, he bears you no grudge, I am sure. He is the essence of good temper. It was a mistake; he saw that when I explained; and when he had vented his spleen on the coachman next day he owned that it was a plucky deed in you to take charge of us, and indeed he said that you was a mighty good whip; although," she added laughing, "you was a trifle heavy in hand."

Desmond felt bound to make a full confession. He related the incident of his encounter with Merriman in London--how he had toppled him over in the mud--wondering how the ladies would take it. He was relieved when they received his story with a peal of laughter.

"Oh, mamma; and it was his new frock!" said Phyllis.

"La, so it was, just fresh from Mr. Small's in Wigmore Street--forty guineas and no less!"

"Well ma'am, I'm already forgiven for that; I trust that with your good favour my earlier indiscretion will be forgiven."

"Indeed it shall be, Mr. Burke, I promise you. Now tell me: what brings you here?"

Desmond explained his errand in a few words. The ladies wished him a prosperous journey, and said they would hope to see him in a few days on his return. He left them, feeling that he had gained friends, and with a new motive, of which he was only vaguely conscious, to a speedy accomplishment of his business.

On the evening of the sixth day after leaving Calcutta there came into sight a church of considerable size, which Surendra Nath explained was the temple of the Armenian colony of Cossimbazar. Passing this, and leaving a maze of native dwellings and the French factory on the left, the travellers reached the Dutch factory, and beyond this the English settlement and fort. Leaving the Babu to arrange quarters for the peons in the native part of the town, Desmond hastened on past the stables and the hospital to the factory. It was a rough oblong in shape, defended at each corner by a bastion mounted with ten guns, the bastions being connected by massive curtains. In the south curtain, windowed for the greater part of its length, was the gateway. Desmond was admitted by a native servant, and in a few minutes found himself in the presence of the chief, Mr. William Watts.

Mr. Watts was a tall man of near forty years--of striking presence, with firm chin, pleasant mouth, and eyes of peculiar depth and brilliance. He was clad in a long purple laced coat, with ruffles at the wrists and a high stock, and wore the short curled wig of the period. He welcomed Desmond with great cordiality, and, glancing over Mr. Merriman's letter, said:

"My friend Mr. Merriman needlessly disturbs himself, I think. I apprehend no immediate difficulty with the new Subah, although 'tis true there have been little vexations. As to the goods, they are in Coja Solomon's godown; they were delivered some time ago and paid for; what the reason of the delay is I cannot tell. One thing I may mention--it appears that Mr. Merriman is ignorant of it: Coja Solomon has lately become the agent of Omichand, whose peons have been seen to visit him, then passing on to Murshidabad. I happen to know also that he has communicated with Coja Wajid: do you know anything of him?"

"No, sir, I have never heard his name."

"He's a rich Armenian trader in Hugli, and acts as agent between the Nawab and the French and Dutch. We suspect him of encouraging Siraj-uddaula against us; but of course we can't prove anything. My advice to you is, be wary and be quick; don't trust any of these fellows further than you can see them. But you can't do anything to-night. You will allow me to give you a bed: in the morning you can make a call on Coja Solomon. What has become of your peons?"

"A Babu I brought with me is looking after them. But I have an English seaman also: can you tell me what to do with him?"

"Sure he can lodge with Sergeant Bowler close by--near the south-east bastion. The sergeant will be glad of the company of a fellow-countryman; your man will be a change after the Dutchmen and topasses he has to do with."

Early next morning Desmond, accompanied by Surendra Nath, went to find Coja Solomon. He lived in a house not far from the Armenian Church, between it and the river. The Armenian was at home. He received Desmond with great politeness, assuring him with much volubility that he had but one interest in life, and that was the business of his honourable employer Mr. Merriman. He invited Desmond to accompany him to the godown near the river where the goods were stored--muslins of Dacca, both plain and flowered, Bengal raw silk, and taffeties manufactured in Cossimbazar.

"You have not been long in the country, sir," said Coja Solomon, with a shrewd look at Desmond, "and therefore you will find it hard to believe, perhaps, that these goods, so insignificant in bulk, are worth over two lakhs of rupees. A precious load indeed, sir. This delay is naturally a cause of vexation to my distinguished superior, but it is not due to any idleness or inattention on my part. It is caused by the surprising difficulty of getting the dastaks countersigned by the Faujdar.[#] Without his signature, as you know, the goods cannot be removed. I dare not venture."

[#] Officer in command of troops, and also a magistrate.

"But why didn't the Faujdar sign the papers?"

"That I cannot tell. I send messengers to him: they come back: the Faujdar is much occupied with the Nawab's business, but he will attend to this little matter as soon as he has leisure. He calls it a little matter; and so it is, perhaps, if we remember that the Nawab's wealth is reckoned by millions; but it is not a little matter to Mr. Merriman, and I deeply deplore the unfortunate delay."

"Well, be good enough to send another message at once. Represent to the Faujdar that Mr. Merriman's ship is prevented from sailing until the goods reach Calcutta, and that this causes great inconvenience and loss." Here the Babu whispered in his ear. "Yes, and add--you will know how to put it--that if the dastaks are sent off immediately, the Faujdar will receive from Mr. Merriman a suitable gratification."

The Armenian rubbed his hands and smilingly assented; but Desmond, who had had some practice in reading faces since he left Market Drayton eighteen months before, felt an uneasy suspicion that Coja Solomon was a scamp. Returning to the factory he acquainted Mr. Watts with the result of his interview and his opinion of the agent. The chief's eye twinkled.

"You haven't been long reckoning him up, Mr. Burke. I'm afraid you're right. I'll see what I can do for you."

Calling "Qui hai!"[#] he ordered the peon who appeared in answer to his summons to go to the black merchants' houses, a row of two-storey buildings some forty yards from the south-west bastion, and bring back with him Babu Joti Lai Chatterji.

[#] "Is there any one?"--used as a summons.

In less than ten minutes the man returned with an intelligent-looking young Bengali. Mr. Watts addressed the latter in Hindustani, bidding him hasten to Murshidabad and find out quietly what the Faujdar was doing with the dastaks. When he had gone, Mr. Watts showed Desmond over the fort, introduced him to his wife, and then took him round the English settlement.

Next day Joti Lai Chatterji returned from Murshidabad with the news that the dastaks, duly signed by the Faujdar, had been delivered to Coja Solomon a fortnight before.

"'Tis rather worse than I expected," said Mr. Watts gravely. "There is something in this that I do not understand. We will send for Coja Solomon."