CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH
*In which seven bold men light a big bonfire; and the Pirate finds ourhero a bad bargain.*
Desmond's strongest feeling, as his companions stepped on board, waswonder--wonder at the silence of the fort, the darkness that covered thewhole face of the country, the safety of himself and the men so latelyprisoners. What time had passed since they had left the shed he wasunable to guess; the moments had been so crowded that any reckoning wasimpossible. But when, as he waited for the coming of the boat, his mindran over the incidents of the flight--the trussing of the sentry, thewary approach to the bastion, the tragic fate of the sentinel there, thestealthy creeping along the shore, the swim to the gallivats and allthat had happened since: as he recalled these things, he could not butwonder that the alarm he dreaded had not already been given. But it wasclear that all was as yet undiscovered; and the plot had worked out soexactly as planned that he hoped still for a breathing-space to carryout his enterprise to the end.
There was not a moment to be wasted. The instant the men were aboardDesmond rapidly gave his orders. Fuzl Khan and one of the Mysoreans hesent to carry the barrel to Angria's gallivat. It contained da'ma.They were to break it open, tear down the hangings in the cabin, smearthem plentifully, and set light to them from the lantern. MeanwhileDesmond himself, with the rest of the men, set about preparing thegallivat in which he was about to make his next move.
The lightest of the line of vessels was the one in which the watchmenhad been gambling. It happened that this, with the gallivat next to it,had come into harbour late in the evening from a short scouting cruise,and the sweeps used by their crews had not been carried on shore, as thecustom was. The larger vessel had fifty of these sweeps, the smallerthirty. If pursuit was to be checked it was essential that none of themshould be left in the enemy's hands, and the work of carrying the fiftyfrom the larger to the smaller vessel took some time. There was nolonger the same need for quietness of movement. So long as any greatnoise and bustle was avoided, the sentinels on the walls of the fortwould only suppose, if sounds reached their ears, that the watch onboard were securing the gallivats at their moorings.
When the sweeps had all been transferred Desmond ordered the prisonersto be brought from Angria's cabin to the smaller vessel. The lashingsof their feet were cut in turn; each man was carefully searched,deprived of all weapons, and escorted from the one vessel to the other,his feet being then securely bound as before.
On board the smallest gallivat were now Desmond, five of his companions,and eleven helpless Marathas. He had just directed one of the Biluchisto cast loose the lashings between the vessels, and was alreadycongratulating himself that the main difficulties of his venture werepast, when he suddenly heard shouts from the direction of the fort.Immediately afterwards the deep notes of the huge gong kept in Angria'scourtyard boomed and reverberated across the harbour, echoed at briefintervals by the strident clanging of several smaller gongs in the town.Barely had the first sound reached his ears when he saw a light flashforth from the outermost bastion; to the left of it appeared a second;and soon, along the whole face of the fort, in the dockyard, in thetown, innumerable lights dotted the blackness, some stationary, othersmoving this way and that. Now cries were heard from all sides, growingin volume until the sound was as of some gigantic hornets' nest awakenedinto angry activity. To the clangour of gongs was added the blare oftrumpets, and from the walls of the fort and palace, from the hillbeyond, from every cliff along the shore, echoed and re-echoed animmense and furious din.
For a few seconds Desmond stood as if fascinated, watching thetransformation which the hundreds of twinkling lights had caused. Thenhe pulled himself together, and, with a word to the Biluchi who hadloosed the lashings, bidding him hold on to the next gallivat, he sprangto the side of this vessel, and hurried towards Angria's. Fuzl Khan hadnot returned; Desmond almost feared that some mishap had befallen theman. Reaching the centre vessel, he peered down the hatchway, butstarted back as a gust of acrid smoke struck him from below. He calledto the Gujarati. There was no response. For an instant he stood inhesitation; had the man been overcome by the suffocating fumes fillingthe hold? But just as, with the instinct of rescue, he was about tolower himself into the depths, he heard a low hail from the vessel atthe end of the line nearest the shore. A moment afterwards Fuzl Khancame stumbling towards him.
"I have fired another gallivat, sahib," he said, his voice ringing withfierce exultation.
"Well done, Fuzl Khan," said Desmond. "Now we must be off. See, thereare torches coming down towards the jetty."
The two sprang across the intervening vessels, a dense cloud of smokefollowing them from the hatchway of Angria's gallivat. Reaching theoutermost of the line, Desmond gave the word, the anchor was slipped,the two Biluchis pressed with all their force against the adjacentvessel, and the gallivat moved slowly out. Desmond ran to the helm, andthe Gujarati with his five companions seizing each upon one of the longsweeps, they dropped their blades into the water and began to pull.
Desmond was all a-tingle with excitement and determination. The shoutsfrom the shore were nearer; the lights were brighter; for all he knewthe whole garrison and population were gathering. They had guessed thatan escape was being attempted by sea. Even now perhaps boats weresetting off, bringing rowers to man the gallivats, and oars to send themin pursuit. If they should reach the vessels before the middle one hadburst into flame, he felt that his chances of getting away were smallindeed. When would the flame appear? It might check the pursuers,throw them into consternation, confuse and delay the pursuit. Would thelonged-for blaze never show itself? And how slowly his gallivat wasmoving! The rowers were bending to their work with a will, but six menwere but a poor crew for so large a vessel, and the progress it wasmaking was in fact due more to the still ebbing tide than to the franticefforts of the oarsmen. The wind was contrary; it would be useless tohoist the sail. At this rate they would be half an hour or more inreaching the three grabs anchored nearer the mouth of the harbour. Thewilling rowers on their benches could not know how slowly the vessel wasmoving, but it was painfully clear to Desmond at the helm; relative tothe lights on shore the gallivat seemed scarcely to move at all.
He called to Fuzl Khan, who left his oar and hurried aft.
"We must make more speed, Fuzl Khan. Release the prisoners' hands; keeptheir feet tied, and place them among our party. Don't take an oaryourself: stand over them ready to strike down any man who mutinies."
The Gujarati grunted and hurried away. Assisted by Surendra Nath, who,being his companion on the rowing bench, had perforce dropped his oar,he soon had the prisoners in position. Urging them with terriblethreats and fierce imprecations, he forced them to ply their oars withlong steady strokes. The way on the gallivat increased. There was nota great distance now to be covered, it was unnecessary to husband theirstrength, and with still more furious menaces Fuzl Khan got out of thesturdy Marathas all the energy of which they were capable. The escapedprisoners needed no spur; they were working with might and main, fordear life.
Desmond had to steer by guesswork and such landmarks as were afforded bythe lights on shore. He peered anxiously ahead, hoping to see the dimshapes of the three grabs; but this was at present impossible, sincethey lay between him and the seaward extremity of the fort, where lightshad not yet appeared. Looking back he saw a number of torches flittingalong the shore; and now two or three dark objects, no doubt boats, weremoving from the further side of the jetty towards the gallivats. At thesame moment that he caught sight of these he saw at last, rising fromthe gallivats, the thin tongue of flame hi had so long expected. Butnow that it had come at last, showing that the work on board had beenthorough, he almost regretted it, for it was instantly seen from theshore and greeted by a babel of yells caught up in different parts ofthe town and fort. As at a signal the torches no longer flickeredhither and thither aimlessly, but all took the same direction towards
the jetty. The hunt was up!
Glancing round, Desmond suddenly gave the order to cease rowing, andputting the helm hard down just avoided crashing into a dark objectahead. The sweeps grated against the side of what proved to be one ofthe grabs for which he had been looking. A voice from its deck hailedhim.
"Take care! Where are you going? Who are you?"
Desmond called up the serang. He dare not reply himself, lest hisaccent should betray him.
"Tell him all is well. We have a message from the fort to the_Tremukji_," he said in a whisper.
The serang repeated the words aloud.
"Well, huzur. But what is the meaning of the noise and the torches andthe blaze on the sea?"
"Tell him we have no time to waste. Ask him where the _Tremukji_ lies."
The man on the grab replied that she lay outside, a dozenboat's-lengths. Desmond knew that this vessel, which had been launchedduring his captivity, and in whose construction he had had a humblepart, had proved the swiftest in the fleet, although much smaller thanthe majority of the Pirate's. Once on board her, and beyond reach ofthe guns of the fort, he might fairly hope to get clear away in spite ofhis miscellaneous crew. Giving to the Gujarati the order to go ahead,he questioned the serang.
"What is the name of the serang in charge of the _Tremukji_?"
"Pandu, sahib."
"How many men are on board her?"
"Three, sahib."
"Then, when we come alongside and I give the word, you will tell him tocome aboard at once; we have a message from the fort for him."
Owing to the trend of the shore, the gallivat had been slowly nearingthe walls of the fort, and at this moment could not be more than ahundred and fifty yards distant from them. But for the shouting onshore the noise of the sweeps must by this time have been heard. In theglow of the blazing vessels in mid channel the moving gallivat hadalmost certainly been seen. Desmond grew more and more anxious.
"Hail the grab," he said to the serang as the vessel loomed up ahead.
"Eo, eo, _Tremukji_!" cried the man.
There came an answering hail. Then the serang hesitated; he wasevidently wondering whether even now he might not defy this foreignerwho was bearding his terrible master. But his hesitation was short. Ata sign from Desmond, Gulam the Biluchi, who had brought the serangforward, applied the point of his knife to the back of the unfortunateman's neck.
"I have a message from Angria Rao," he cried quickly. "Come aboard atonce."
The rowers at a word from Fuzl Khan shipped their oars, and the twovessels came together with a sharp thud. The serang in charge of thegrab vaulted across the bulwarks and fell into the waiting arms of FuzlKhan, who squeezed his throat, muttered a few fierce words in his ear,and handed him over to Gulam, who bundled him below. Then, shouting theorder to make fast, the Gujarati flung a hawser across to the grab. Thetwo men on board her obeyed without question; but they were still at thework when Desmond and Fuzl Khan, followed by the two Mysoreans, leaptupon them from the deck of the gallivat. There was a short sharpscrimmage; then these guardians of the grab were hauled on to thegallivat and sent to join the rowers on the main deck.
Desmond and his six companions now had fourteen prisoners on theirhands, and in ordinary circumstances the disproportion would have beenfatal. But the captives, besides having been deprived of all means ofoffence, had no exact knowledge of the number of men who had trappedthem. Their fears and the darkness had a magnifying effect, and, likeFalstaff, they would have sworn that their enemies were ten times asmany as they actually were.
So deeply engrossed had Desmond been in the capture of the grab that hehad forgotten the one serious danger that threatened to turn the tide ofaccident, hitherto so favourable, completely against him. He hadforgotten the burning gallivats. But now his attention was recalled tothem in a very unpleasant and forcible way. There was a deafeningreport, as it seemed from a few yards' distance, followed immediately bya splash in the water just ahead. The glare of the burning vessels wasdimly lighting up almost the whole harbour mouth, and the runawaygallivat, now clearly seen from the fort, had become a target for itsguns. The gunners had been specially exercised of late in anticipationof an attack from Bombay, and Desmond knew that in his slow-going vesselhe could not hope to draw out of range in time to escape a battering.
But his gallivat was among the grabs. At this moment it must beimpossible for the gunners to distinguish between the runaway and theloyal vessels. If he could only cause them to hold their fire for atime! Knowing that the Gujarati had a stentorian voice, and that ashout would carry upwards from the water to the parapet, in a flashDesmond saw the possibility of a ruse. He spoke to Fuzl Khan. The manat once turned to the fort, and with the full force of his lungsshouted:
"Comrades, do not fire. We have caught them!"
Answering shouts came from the walls; the words were indistinguishable,but the trick had succeeded, at any rate for the moment. No second shotwas at this time fired.
Desmond made full use of this period of grace. He recognized that thegallivat, while short-handed, was too slow to make good the escape; thegrab, with the wind contrary, could never be got out of the harbour; theonly course open to him was to make use of the one to tow the otheruntil they reached the open sea. As soon as a hawser could be bent thegrab was taken in tow: its crew was impressed with the other prisonersas rowers, under the charge of the Biluchis; and with Desmond at thehelm of the grab and the Gujarati steering the gallivat, the two vesselscrept slowly seawards. They went at a snail's pace, for it was nearlyslack tide; and slow as the progress of the gallivat had been before itwas much slower now that the men had to move two vessels instead of one.To Desmond, turning every now and again to watch the increasing glarefrom the burning gallivats, it seemed that he scarcely advanced at all.The town and the townward part of the fort were minute by minutebecoming more brightly illuminated; every detail around the blazingvessels could be distinctly seen; and mingled with the myriad noisesfrom the shore was now the crackle of the flames, and the hiss ofburning spars and rigging as they fell into the water.
The gallivats had separated into two groups; either they had been cutapart, or, more probably, the lashings had been burnt through. Aroundone of the groups Desmond saw a number of small boats. They appeared tobe trying to cut out the middle of the three gallivats, which seemed tobe as yet uninjured, while the vessels on either side were in fullblaze. Owing to the intense heat the men's task was a difficult anddangerous one, and Desmond had good hope that they would not succeeduntil the gallivat was too much damaged to be of use for pursuit. Hewondered, indeed, at the attempt being made at all; for it kept all theavailable boats engaged when they might have dashed upon the grab in towand made short work of it. The true explanation of their blunder didnot at the moment occur to Desmond. The fact was that the men trying soearnestly to save the gallivat knew nothing of what had happened to thegrab. They were aware that a gallivat had been cut loose and wasstanding out to sea; but the glare of the fire blinded them to all thatwas happening beyond a narrow circle, and as yet they had had noinformation from shore of what was actually occurring. When they didlearn that two vessels were on their way to the sea, they would no doubtset out to recapture the fugitives instead of wasting their efforts in afutile attempt to save the unsavable.
Desmond was still speculating on the point when another shot from thefort aroused him to the imminent danger. The dark shapes of the twovessels must now certainly be visible from the walls. The shot flewwide. Although the grab was well within range it was doubtless difficultto take aim, the distance being deceptive and the sights useless in thedark. But this shot was followed at intervals of a few seconds byanother and another; it was clear that the fugitives were running thegauntlet of the whole armament on this side of the fort. The guns werebeing fired as fast as they could be loaded; the gunners were becomingaccustomed to the darkness, and when Desmond heard the shots plumpinginto the water, nearer to him, it
seemed, every time, he could not butrecognize that success or failure hung upon a hair.
Crash! A round shot struck the grab within a few feet of the wheel. Ashower of splinters flew in all directions. Desmond felt a stingingblow on the forehead; he put up his hand; when he took it away it waswet. He could not leave the wheel to see what damage had been done tothe ship, still less to examine his own injury. He was alone on board.Every other man was straining at his oar in the gallivat. He felt theblood trickling down his face; from time to time he wiped it away withthe loose end of his dhoti. Then he forgot his wound, for two moreshots within a few seconds of each other struck the grab forward.Clearly the gunners were aiming at his vessel, which, being larger thanthe gallivat, and higher in the water, presented an easier mark. Wherehad she been hit? If below the waterline, before many minutes were pastshe would be sinking under him. Yet he could do nothing. He dared notorder the men in the gallivat to cease rowing; he dared not leave thehelm of the grab; he could but wait and hold his post. It would not belong before he knew whether the vessel had been seriously hit: if it wasso, then would be the time to cast off the tow-rope.
The gallivat, at any rate, appeared not to have suffered. Desmond wasbeginning to think he was out of the wood when he heard a crash infront, followed by a still more ominous sound. The motion of thegallivat at once ceased, and, the grab slowly creeping up to her,Desmond had to put his helm hard up to avoid a collision. He could hearthe Gujarati raging and storming on deck, and cries as of men in pain;then, as the grab came abreast of the smaller vessel, he became aware ofwhat had happened. The mainmast of the gallivat had been struck by ashot and had gone by the board.
Desmond hailed the Gujarati and told him to get three or four men to cutaway the wreckage.
"Keep an eye on the prisoners," he added, feeling that this was perhapsthe most serious element in a serious situation; for with round shotflying about the vessel it might well have seemed to the unhappy men onthe rowing benches that mutiny was the lesser of two risks. But therowers were cowed by the presence of the two Biluchis armed with theirterrible knives, and they crowded in dumb helplessness while the tangledrigging was cut away.
"Is any one hurt?" asked Desmond.
"One of the rowers has a broken arm, sahib," replied Shaik Abdullah.
"And I have a contusion of the nose," said the Babu lugubriously.
It was impossible to do anything for the sufferers at the moment. Itwas still touch-and-go with the whole party. The shots from the fortwere now beginning to fall short, but, for all Desmond knew, boats mighthave been launched in pursuit, and if he was overtaken it meantlingering torture and a fearful death. He was in a fever of impatienceuntil at length, the tangled shrouds having been cut away, the rowingwas resumed and the two vessels began again to creep slowly seaward.
Gradually they drew out of range of the guns. Steering straight out tosea, Desmond had a clear view of the whole of the harbour and a longstretch of the river. The scene was brightly lit up, and he saw thattwo of the gallivats had been towed away from the burning vessels, fromwhich the flames were now shooting high into the air. But even on thetwo that had been cut loose there were spurts of flame; and Desmondhoped that they had sustained enough damage to make them unseaworthy.
Suddenly there were two loud explosions, in quick succession. A columnof fire rose towards the sky from each of the gallivats that wereblazing most brightly. The fire had at length reached the ammunition.The red sparks sprang upwards like a fountain, casting a ruddy glow formany yards around; then they fell back into the sea, and all wasdarkness, except for the lesser lights from the burning vessels whosemagazines had as yet escaped. The explosions could hardly have occurredat a more opportune moment, for the darkness was now all the moreintense, and favoured the fugitives.
There was a brisk breeze from the south-west outside the harbour, andwhen the two vessels lost the shelter of the headland they crept alongeven more slowly than before. Desmond had learnt enough of seamanship onboard the _Good Intent_ to know that he must have sea-room before hecast off the gallivat and made sail northwards; otherwise he wouldinevitably be driven on shore. It was this fact that had prompted hisoperations in the harbour. He knew that the grabs could not put to seaunless they were towed, and the gallivats being rendered useless, towingwas impossible.
The sea was choppy, and the rowers had much ado to control the sweeps.Only their dread of the Biluchis' knives kept them at their work. Butthe progress, though slow, was steady; gradually the glow in the skybehind the headland grew dimmer; though it was as yet impossible tojudge with certainty how much offing had been made, Desmond, resolvingto give away no chances, and being unacquainted with the trend of thecoast, kept the rowers at work, with short intervals of rest, untildawn. By this means he hoped to avoid all risk of being driven on a leeshore, and to throw Angria off the scent; for it would naturally besupposed that the fugitives would head at once for Bombay, and pursuit,if attempted, would be made in that direction.
When day broke over the hills, Desmond guessed that the coast must benow five miles off. As far as he could see, it ran north by east. Hehad now plenty of sea-room; there was no pursuer in sight; the wind wasin his favour, and if it held, no vessel in Angria's harbour could nowcatch him. He called to the Gujarati, who shouted an order to theBiluchis; the worn-out men on the benches ceased rowing, except four,who pulled a few strokes every now and again to prevent the two vesselsfrom colliding. Desmond had thought at first of stopping the rowingaltogether and running the grab alongside the gallivat; but that course,while safe enough in the still water of the harbour, would have itsdangers in the open sea. So, lashing the helm of the grab, he droppedinto a small boat which had been bumping throughout the night againstthe vessel's side, and in a few minutes was on board the gallivat.
He first inquired after the men who had been wounded in the night. Onehad a broken arm, which no one on board knew how to set. The Babu hadcertainly a much discoloured nose, the contusion having been caused nodoubt by a splinter of wood thrown up by the shot. Two or three of therowers had slight bruises and abrasions, but none had been killed andnone dangerously hurt.
Then Desmond had a short and earnest talk with the Gujarati, who aloneof the men had sufficient seamanship to make him of any value indeciding upon the next move.
"What is to be done with the gallivat?" asked Desmond.
"Scuttle her, sahib, and hoist sail on the grab."
"But the rowers?"
"Fasten them to the benches and let them drown. They could not help ourenemies then, and it would make up for what you and I and all of us havesuffered in Gheria."
"No, I can't do that," said Desmond.
"It must be as I say, sahib. There is nothing else to do. We havekilled no one yet, except the sentinel on the parapet; I did thatneatly, the sahib will agree; I would have a life for every lash of thewhip upon my back."
"No," said Desmond decisively, "I will not drown the men. We will takeon board the grab three or four, who must be sailors; let us ask whowill volunteer. We will promise them good pay; we haven't any money, tobe sure, but the grab can be sold when we reach Bombay, and though westole her I think everybody would admit that she is our lawful prize. Ishould think they'll be ready enough to volunteer, for they won't careto return to Gheria and face Angria's rage. At the same time we can'ttake more than three or four, because in the daylight they can now seehow few we are, and they might take a fancy to recapture the grab. Whatdo you think of that plan?"
The Gujarati sullenly assented. He did not understand mercy to anenemy.
"There is no need to pay them, sahib," he said. "You can promise pay; apromise is enough."
Desmond was unwilling to start an argument and said nothing. Once inBombay he could ensure that any pledges given would be strictly kept.
As he expected, there was no difficulty in obtaining volunteers. Twicethe number required offered their services. They had not found theirwork with the Pi
rate so easy and so well rewarded as to have any greatobjection to a change of masters. Moreover, they no doubt feared thereception they would get from Angria if they returned. And it appearedafterwards that during the night the Biluchis had recounted manyfabulous incidents all tending to show that the sahib was a veryimportant as well as a very ingenious Firangi, so that this reputation,coupled with an offer of good pay, overcame any scruples the men mightretain.
Among those who volunteered and whose services were accepted was theserang of Angria's gallivat. Unknown to Desmond, while he was holdingthis conversation with the Gujarati, the serang, crouching in apparentapathy on his bench, had really strained his ears to catch what wasbeing said. He, with the three other men selected, was released fromhis bonds, and ordered to lower the long boat of the gallivat and stowin it all the ammunition for the guns that was to be found in the ship'smagazine. This was then taken on board the grab, and Desmond ordered oneof the Mysoreans to load the grab's stern chaser, telling the Marathaswhom he intended to leave on the gallivat that, at the first sign of anyattempt to pursue, their vessel would be sunk.
Then in two parties the fugitives went on board the grab. Desmond wasthe last to leave the gallivat, releasing one of the captive rowers, whoin his turn could release the rest.
As soon as Desmond stepped on board the grab, the hawser connecting thetwo vessels was cast off, the mainsail was run up, and the grab, sailinglarge, stood up the coast. Fuzl Khan, swarming up to the mast-head,reported two or three sail far behind, apparently at the mouth of Gheriaharbour. But Desmond, knowing that if they were in pursuit they had along beat to windward before them, felt no anxiety on that score.Besides, the grab he was on had been selected precisely because it wasthe fastest vessel in Angria's fleet.
Having got fairly under way, he felt that he had leisure to inspect thedamage done to the grab by the shots from the fort which had given himso much concern in the darkness. That she had suffered no seriousinjury was clear from the ease with which she answered the helm and therapidity of her sailing. He found that a hole or two had been made inthe forepart of the deck, and a couple of yards of the bulwarks carriedaway. There was nothing to cause alarm or to demand instant repair.
It was a bright cool morning, and Desmond, after the excitements and thestrain of the last few days, felt an extraordinary lightness of spiritas the vessel cut through the water. For the first time in his life heknew the meaning of the word freedom; none but a man who has sufferedcaptivity or duress can know such joy as now filled his soul. The longstress of his menial life on board the _Good Intent_, the weary monthsof toil, difficulty and danger as Angria's prisoner, were past; and itwas with whole-hearted joyousness he realized that he was now on his wayto Bombay, whence he might proceed to Madras, and Clive--Clive, the herowho was as a fixed star in his mental firmament.
The gallivat, lying all but motionless on the water, a forlorn objectwith the jagged stump of her mainmast, grew smaller and smaller in thedistance, and was soon hull down. Desmond, turning away from a lastlook in her direction, awoke from his reverie to the consciousness thathe was ravenously hungry.