CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SECOND
*In which is given a full, true, and particular account of the Battle ofthe Carts.*
Desmond expected that Mohun Lai would reach Santipur shortly afternightfall. He himself might hope to arrive there, if not intercepted atKhulna or Amboa, at any time between midnight and three o'clock,according to the state of the river. It was approaching dusk when hedrew near to Khulna. The boats having been tied up to the bank, as thecustom was, Desmond sent the Babu to find out from the Company'sgumashta whether news of the capture of Cossimbazar Fort had reached thebazar, and if any runner had come in from the north. In an hour theBabu returned. He said that there was great excitement in the bazar; noofficial messenger had arrived, but everybody was saying that the Nawabhad captured the English factory at Cossimbazar, and was going to driveall the Firangi out of Bengal.
Desmond decided to take a bold course. Official news not havingarrived, he might seize the moment to present his dastaks and get awaybefore the customs officers found any pretext for stopping him.Everything happened as he hoped. He met with no more difficulty than atPatli, and informing the official who examined the dastaks that he woulddrop down to Amboa before tying up for the night, he drew out again intothe stream.
He spent some time in consultation with the serang. In a ratherdesolate reach of the Hugli, he learnt, and in the middle of the stream,there was a small island, uninhabited save by teal and other water-fowl,and not known to be the haunt of tigers or other beasts of prey.Reaching this islet about ten o'clock at night, when all river traffichad ceased, he rowed in, and landed the Armenian with his crews.
"I thank you for your company, Coja Solomon," he said blandly. "We musthere part, to my regret, for I should like to have the pleasure ofwitnessing your meeting with Mr. Merriman. The nights are warm, and youwill, I am sure, be quite comfortable till the morning, when no doubt apassing boat will take you off and convey you back to your business atCossimbazar."
"I will not stay here," protested the Armenian, his face livid withanger.
"Believe me, you have no choice. Let me remind you that had you behavedhonestly there would have been no reason for putting you to theinconvenience of this tiring journey. You have brought it on yourself."
Coja Solomon sullenly went up the shore. Desmond then paid the menhandsomely: they had indeed worked well, and they were abundantlysatisfied with the hire they received.
Leaving Coja Solomon to his bitter reflections, Desmond dropped down toSantipur, arriving there about two o'clock in the morning. Just beforedawn ten hackeris, each yoked with two oxen, drew up near the Company'sghat. They were accompanied by a crowd of the inhabitants, lively withcuriosity about the engagement of so many vehicles. The gumashta cameup with the first cart, his face clouded with anxiety. He recognizedthe Babu at once, and said that while he had fulfilled the order he hadreceived on Mr. Merriman's behalf, he had done it in fear and trembling.The whole country knew that Cossimbazar Fort was in possession of theNawab, and, more than that, the Nawab had on the previous day set outwith an immense army for Calcutta. Santipur was not on the high road,and the Company was respected there; yet the gumashta feared the peoplewould make an attack on the party if they suspected that they carriedgoods belonging to an Englishman.
Hitherto Desmond had kept himself in the background. But now he had anidea inspired by confidence in his costume. Introducing himself to thegumashta, he asked him to give out that the party was in command of aFirangi in the service of the Nawab, and was conveying part of theNawab's private equipage in advance to Baraset, a few miles north ofCalcutta, there to await the arrival of the main army. To make theimposition more effective, he called for the lambadar[#] of the villageand ordered him in the Nawab's name to despatch a flotilla oftwenty-five wollacks[#] to Cutwa to convey the official baggage. Theplan proved successful. Desmond found himself regarded as a person ofimportance; the natives humbly salaamed to him; and, taking matters witha high hand, he impressed a score of the village idlers into the work oftransferring his precious bales from the boats to the hackeris. Thework was accomplished in half an hour.
[#] Headman.
[#] Barges.
"Bulger," said Desmond, when the loading was done, "you will consideryourself in charge of this convoy. The Babu will interpret for you.You will hurry on as fast as possible towards Calcutta. I shallovertake you by and by. The people here believe that I am a Frenchman,so you had better pass as that too, for of course your disguise willdeceive no native in the daylight."
"Well I knows it," said Bulger. "They've been starin' at me like as ifI was a prize pig this half-hour and more, and lookin' most uncommoncurious at my little button-hook. But, sir, I don't see any call for meto make out I'm a mounseer. 'T'ud make me uneasy inside, sir, the verythought of eatin' what they mounseers eat."
"My good man, there's no need to carry it too far. Do as you please,only take care of the goods."
Except Desmond and four men whom he retained, the whole party moved offwith the hackeris towards Calcutta. The road was an unmade track, heavywith dust, rough, execrably bad; and at the gumashta's suggestionDesmond had arranged for three extra teams of oxen to accompany thecarts, to extricate them in case of necessity from holes or soft places.Fortunately the weather was dry: had the rains begun--and they wereoverdue--the road would have been a slough of mud and ooze, and thejourney would have been impossible.
When the convoy had set off, Desmond with three men, including theserang, returned to the empty boats. The lookers-on stared to see thecraft put off and drop down the river with a crew of one man each:Desmond in the first, and the smaller boat that had contained Bulger andhis party trailing behind. Floating down some four or five miles withthe stream, Desmond gave the order to scuttle the three petalas, androwed ashore in the smaller boat. On reaching land he got the serang toknock a hole in the bottom of the boat, and shoved it off towards midstream, where it rapidly filled and sank.
It was full daylight when Desmond and his party of three struck offinland in a direction that would bring them upon the track of the carts.He had a presentiment that his difficulties were only beginning. Bythis time, no doubt, the news of his escapade had been carried throughthe country by the swift kasids of the Nawab. His passing at Khulna andAmboa would be reported, and a watch would be kept for him at Hugli. Ifperchance a kasid or a chance traveller entered Santipur, the trick hehad practised there would be immediately discovered; but if themessenger only touched at the places on the direct route on the otherbank, he might hope that some time would elapse before the authoritiesthere suspected that he had left the river. They must soon learn thatthree petalas lay wrecked in the stream below Amboa; but they could notsatisfy themselves without examination that these were the vessels ofwhich they were in search.
Tramping across two miles of fields newly sown with maize and sorghum,he at length descried the trail of his convoy and soon came up with it.If pursuers were indeed upon his track, only by the greatest goodfortune could he escape them. The carts creaked along with painfulslowness; the wheels half-way to the axles in dust; now stoppingaltogether, now rocking like ships in a stormy sea. With his arrivaland the promise of liberal bakshish the hackeriwallahs urged thelabouring oxen with their cruel goads till Desmond, always tender withanimals, could hardly endure the sight. By nine o'clock the morning hadbecome stiflingly hot. There was little or no breeze, and Desmond,unused of late to active exercise, found the heat terribly trying. ButBulger suffered still more. A stout, florid man, he toiled along,panting, streaming with sweat, in difficulties so manifest that Desmond,eyeing him anxiously, feared lest a stroke of apoplexy should bring himto an untimely end.
The country was so flat that a string of carts could not fail to be seenfrom a long distance. If noticed from the towers of Hugli across theriver, curiosity, if not suspicion, would be aroused, and it would nottake long to send over by a ford a force sufficient to arrest andcapture the party. To es
cape observation it was necessary to make widedetours. At several small hamlets on the route Desmond managed to getfresh oxen, but not enough for complete changes of team. So, throughall the broiling heat of the day, at hours when no other Europeans inall Bengal were out of doors, the convoy struggled on, making its ownroad, crossing the dry beds of pools, skirting or labouring over ruggednullahs.
At nightfall Desmond learnt from one of the drivers that they were stillsix miles short of being opposite to Hugli. The patient Bengalis couldendure no more; the oxen were done up, the men refused to go furtherwithout a rest. Halting at a hamlet some five miles from the river,they rested and fed till midnight, then set off again. It was not soinsufferably hot at night, but on the other hand they were less able toavoid obstructions: and the rest had not been long enough to make up forthe terrible exertions of the day.
By daybreak they were some distance past Hugli, still keeping about fivemiles from the river. Desmond was beginning to congratulate himselfthat the worst was over; Barrakpur was only about twelve miles away. Buta little after dawn he caught sight of a European on horseback crossingtheir track towards the river. He was going at a walking pace, attendedby two syces.[#] Attracted, apparently, by the sight, unusual at thistime of year, of a string of hackeris, he wheeled his horse and canteredtowards the tail of the convoy, which was under Bulger's charge.
[#] Grooms.
"Eo, hackeriwallah," he said in Urdu to the rearmost driver, "to whom dothese hackeris belong?"
"To the great Company, huzur. The sahib will tell you."
"The sahib!--what sahib?" asked the rider in astonishment.
"The sahib yonder," replied the man, pointing to Bulger. Bulger had beenstaring at the horseman, and growing more and more red in the face.Catching the rider's surprised look, he could contain himself no longer.
"By thunder! 'tis that villain Diggle!" he shouted, and rushed forwardto drag him from his horse.
But Diggle was not taken unawares. Setting spurs to his steed, hecaused it to spring away. Bulger raised his musket, but ere he couldfire Diggle was out of range. Keeping a careful distance he rodeleisurely along the whole convoy, and a smile of malignant pleasureshone upon his face as he took stock of its contents. Meanwhile Bulger,already repenting of his hasty action, hurried forward to acquaintDesmond with what had happened. Diggle's smile broadened; he halted andtook a long look at the tall figure in native dress to whom Bulger wasso excitedly speaking. Then, turning his horse in the direction of theriver, he spoke over his shoulder to his syces and galloped away,followed by them at a run.
"You were a fool, Bulger," said Desmond testily. "This may lead to noend of trouble."
Bulger looked penitent, and wrathful, and overwhelmed.
"We must try to hurry," added Desmond to Surendra Nath. "Promise themen more bakshish: don't stint."
For two hours longer they pushed on with all the speed of which thejaded beasts were capable. Every now and again Desmond looked anxiouslyback, hoping against hope that they would not be pursued. But he knewthat Diggle had recognized him, and being prepared for the worst, hebegan to rack his brains for some means of defence. Misfortune seemedto dog him. Two of the oxen collapsed. It was necessary to distributethe loads of their hackeris among the others. The march was delayed,and when the convoy was again under way, its progress was slower thanever.
It had, indeed, barely started, when in the distance Desmond spied ahorseman cantering towards them. A few minutes revealed him as Diggle.He rode up almost within musket-shot, then turned and trotted back.What was the meaning of his action? Desmond, from his position near theforemost hackeri, could see nothing more. But, a few yards ahead ofhim, to the right of the track, there was a low artificial mound,possibly the site of an ancient temple, standing at the edge of anullah, its top some ten or twelve feet above the surrounding plain.Hastening to this he gained the summit, and, looking back, saw anumerous body of men on foot advancing rapidly from the quarter whencethe horseman had ridden. In twenty minutes they would have come up withthe convoy. He must turn at bay.
He glanced anxiously around. He was in the midst of a dry, slightlyundulating plain, the new-sown fields awaiting the rains to spring intoverdure. Here and there were clumps of trees--the towering palmyra withits fan-shaped foliage, the bamboo with its feathery branches, theplantain, throwing its immense leaves of vivid green into everyfantastic form. There was no safety on the plain. But below him wasthe nullah, thirty feet deep, eighty yards wide, soon to be a swollentorrent dashing towards the Hugli, but now dry. Its sides were in partssteep, and unscalable in face of determined resistance. In a momentDesmond saw the utmost of possibility.
Running back to the convoy, he turned its head towards the mound, and,calling every man to the help of the oxen, he dragged the carts one byone to the top. There he caused the beasts to be unyoked, and placedthe hackeris, their poles interlocked, so as to form a roughsemicircular breastwork around the summit of the mound. For a moment hehesitated in deciding what to do with the cattle. Should he keep themwithin his little entrenchment? If they took fright they might stampedeand do mischief; in any case they would be in the way, and he resolvedto send them all off under charge of such of the drivers as were tootimid to remain. He noticed that the Babu was quivering with alarm.
"Surendra Nath," he said, "this is no place for you. Slip away quietly;go towards Calcutta; and if you meet Mr. Merriman coming in response tomy message, tell him the plight we are in and ask him to hasten to ourhelp."
"I do not like to show the white feather, sir," said the Babu.
"Not at all, Babu, we must have a trustworthy messenger: you are theman. Now get away as fast as you can."
The Babu departed on his errand with the speed of gladness and relief.
The ground sloped sharply outwards from the carts, and the rear of theposition was formed by the nullah. The last two hackeris were beingplaced in position when the vanguard of the pursuers, with Diggle attheir head, came to a point just out of range. The party was largerthan Desmond had estimated it to be at his first hasty glance. Therewere some twenty men armed with matchlocks, and forty with swords andlathis. All were natives. His heart sank as he measured the oddsagainst him. What was his dismay when he saw, half a mile off, anotherbody following up. And these were white men! Was Diggle bringing theFrench of Chandernagore into the fray?
Desmond posted his twelve armed peons behind the hackeris. He gave themstrict orders to fire only at the word of command, and as they hadundergone some discipline in Calcutta he hoped that, if only inself-preservation, they would maintain a certain steadiness. Behindthem he placed twelve sturdy boatmen armed with half pikes, instructingthem to take the place of the peons when they had fired. Bulger stoodat the midpoint of the semicircle; his rough square face was a deeppurple with a rim of black; his dhoti had become loosened, leaving hisgreat shoulders and brawny chest bare; his turban was awry; his eyes,bloodshot with the heat, were as the eyes of Mars himself, burning withthe fire of battle.
The pursuers had halted. Diggle came forward, trotting his horse up tothe base of the mound. The peons fingered their matchlocks and lookedexpectant; Bulger growled; but Desmond gazed serenely at his enemy.
"Your disguise is excellent," said Diggle in his smoothest tones; "but Ibelieve I speak to Mr. Desmond Burke."
"Yes, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, stepping forward.
"I am glad to have overtaken you. Sure you have encamped early. I havea message from my friend the Faujdar of Hugli. By some mistake aconsignment of merchandise has been illegally removed from Cossimbazar,and the Faujdar, understanding that the goods are contained in thesecarts, bids me ask you to deliver them up to his men, whom you see herewith me."
Desmond was anxious to gain time. He thought out his plan of actionwhile Diggle was speaking. His impulsiveness prompted a flat defiancein few words; policy counselled a formality of utterance equal toDiggle's.
"These carts certainly contain mer
chandise, Mr. Diggle," he said. "Itis the property of Mr. Edward Merriman, of Calcutta; I think you knowhim? It was removed from Cossimbazar; but not, I assure you, illegally.I have the dastaks authorizing its removal to Calcutta; they are signedby the Faujdar of Murshidabad. Has the Faujdar of--where did you say?"
"Of Hugli."
"Has the Faujdar of Hugli power to countermand what the Faujdar of thecapital has done?"
"Why discuss that point?" said Diggle with a smile. "The Faujdar ofHugli is an officer of the Nawab; 'hoc sat est tibi'--blunt language,but the phrase is Tully's."
"Well, I waive that. But I am not satisfied that you, an Englishman,have authority to act for the Faujdar of Hugli. The crowd I see beforeme--a rabble of lathi-wallahs--clearly cannot be the Faujdar's men." Atthis point he heard an exclamation from Bulger. The second body of menhad come up and ranked themselves behind the first. "And may I ask,"added Desmond, with a slight gesture to Bulger to restrain himself; hetoo had recognized the new-comers; "since when the Nawab has taken intohis service the crew of an interloping English merchantman?"
"I will give you full information, Mr. Burke," said Diggle suavely,"when we stand together before my friend the Faujdar. In the meantimeyou will, if I may venture to advise, consult your interest best inyielding to superior numbers and delivering up the goods."
"And what about myself, Mr. Diggle?"
"You, of course, will accompany me to the Faujdar. He will be incensed,I make no doubt, at your temerity, and not unjustly; but I willintercede for you, and you will be treated with the most delicateattentions."
"You speak fair, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, still bent upon gainingtime; "but that is your way. What assurance have I that you will, thistime, keep your word?"
"You persist in misjudging me," said Diggle regretfully. "As Cicero saysin the play, you construe things after your fashion, clean from thepurpose of the things themselves. My interest in you is undiminished;nay rather, it is increased and mixed with admiration. My offers stillhold good: join hands with me, and I promise you that you shall soon bea _persona grata_ at the court of Murshidabad, with wealth and honoursin your grasp."
"Your offer is tempting, Mr. Diggle, to a poor adventurer like me, andif only my own interests were involved, I might strike a bargain withyou. I have had such excellent reasons to trust you in the past! Butthe goods are not mine; they are Mr. Merriman's; and the utmost I can doat present is to ask you to draw your men off and wait while I send amessenger to Calcutta. When he returns with Mr. Merriman's consent tothe delivery of the goods, then----"
The sentence remained unfinished. Diggle's expression had becomeblacker and blacker as Desmond spoke, and seeing with fury that he wasbeing played with he suddenly wheeled round, and, cantering back to hismen, gave the order to fire. At the same moment Desmond called to hismen to lie flat on the ground and aim at the enemy from behind the thickwooden wheels of the hackeris. Being on the flat top of the mound, theywere to some extent below the line of fire from the plain, and when thefirst volley was delivered no harm was done to them save for a fewscratches made by flying splinters from the carts. But the crack of thematchlocks struck terror into the pale hearts of some of thehackeriwallahs. Several sprang over the breastwork and scuttled awaylike scared rabbits. The remainder stood firm, grasping their lathis ina manner that showed the fighting instinct to be strong, even in theBengali.
Many anxious looks were bent upon Desmond, his men expecting the orderto fire. But he bade them remain still, and through the intervalbetween two carts he watched for the rush that was coming. The crew ofthe _Good Intent_, headed by Sunman the cross-eyed mate and Parmiter,had come up behind the natives. These having emptied their matchlockswere now retiring to reload. Diggle had dismounted, and was talkingearnestly with the mate. They walked together to the edge of thenullah, and looked up and down it, doubtless canvassing the chances ofan attack in the rear; but the sides were steep; there was no hope ofsuccess in this direction; and they rejoined the main body.
Evidently they had decided on making a vigorous direct attack over thecarts. Dividing his troop into two portions, Diggle put himself at thehead of the one, Sunman at the head of the other. Arranged in asemicircle concentric with the breastwork, at the word of command allthe men with firearms discharged their pieces; then, with shrill criesfrom the natives, and a hoarse cheer from the crew of the _Good Intent_,they charged in a close line up the slope. Behind the barricade themen's impatience had only been curbed by the quiet imperturbable mannerof their young leader. But their self-restraint was on the point ofbreaking down when, short, sharp, and clear, the long-awaited commandwas given. Their matchlocks flashed; the volley told with deadly effectat the short range of thirty paces; four or five men dropped; as manymore staggered down the slope; the rest halted indecisively, in doubtwhether to push forward or turn tail.
"Blockheads! cowards!" shouted Diggle in a fury. "Push on, you dogs; weare four to one!"
He was now a very different Diggle from the man Desmond had knownhitherto. His smile was gone; all languor and indolence was lost; hiseyes flashed, his lips met in a hard cruel line; his voice rang outstrong and metallic. That he was no coward Desmond already knew. He puthimself in the forefront of the line, and, as always happens, a braveleader never lacks followers. The whole of the seamen and many of theBengalis surged forward after him. Behind the breastwork all the menwere now mixed up--musketeers with pikemen and lathiwallahs. Upon thesecame the swarming enemy, some clambering over the carts, otherswriggling between the wheels. There was a babel of cries; the exultantbellow of the born fighter, British or native; a few pistol-shots; thescream of the men mortally hit; the "Wah! wah!" of the Bengalisapplauding their own prowess.
As Diggle had said, the odds were four to one. But the defenders hadthe advantage of position, and for a few moments they held the yellingmob at bay. The half-pikes of the boatmen were terrible weapons atclose quarters, more formidable than the cutlasses of the seamen balkedby the breastwork, or the loaded bamboo clubs of the lathiwallahs.
Sunman the mate was one of the first victims; he fell to a shot fromBulger. But Parmiter and Diggle, followed by half a dozen of thesailors, and a score of the more determined lathiwallahs and musketeerswith clubbed muskets, succeeded in clambering to the top of the cartsand prepared to jump down among the defenders, most of whom were busilyengaged in jabbing at the men swarming in between the wheels. Desmondsaw that if his barricade was once broken through the issue of the fightmust be decided by mere weight of numbers.
"Bulger, here!" he cried, "and you, Hossain."
The men sprang to him, and, following his example, leapt on to the cartnext to that occupied by Diggle and Parmiter. Desmond's intention wasto take them in flank. Jumping over the bales of silk, he swung over hishead a matchlock he had seized from one of his peons, and brought itdown with a horizontal sweep. Two of the Bengalis among the crowd oflathiwallahs, who were hanging back out of reach of the boatmen's pikes,were swept off the cart. But the violence of his blow disturbedDesmond's own balance; he fell on one knee; his matchlock was seized andjerked out of his hand; and in a second three men were upon him. Bulgerand the serang, although a little late owing to want of agility inscaling the cart, were close behind.
"Belay there!" roared Bulger, as he flung himself upon the combatants.
The bullet head of one sturdy badmash cracked like an egg-shell underthe butt of the bold tar's musket; a second received the terrible hooksquare in the teeth; and a third, no other than Parmiter himself, wascaught round the neck at the next lunge of the hook, and flung, with amighty heave, full into the midst of the defenders. Bulger drew a longbreath.
At the same moment Diggle, attacked by the serang, was thrown from hisperch on the hackeri and fell among his followers outside the barricade.There was a moment's lull while both parties recovered their wind.Firing had ceased; to load a matchlock was a long affair, and though theattackers might have divided and come forward in relays
with loadedweapons, they would have run the risk of hitting their own friends. Itwas to be again a hand-to-hand fight. Diggle was not to be denied.Desmond, who had jumped down inside the barricade when the pressure wasrelieved by Bulger, could not but admire the spirit and determination ofhis old enemy, though it boded ill for his own chance of escape. He wasweary; worn out by want of rest and food; almost prostrated by theterrible heat. Looking round his little fort, he felt a tremor as hesaw that five out of his twenty-four men were more or less disabled.True, there were now more than a dozen of the enemy in the same or aworse plight; but they could afford their losses, and Desmond indeedwondered why Diggle did not sacrifice a few men in one fierceoverwhelming onslaught.
THE BATTLE OF THE CARTS.]
"A hundred rupees to the man who kills the young sahib, two hundred tothe man who takes him alive!" cried Diggle to his dusky followers, asthough in answer to Desmond's thought. Then, turning to the discomfitedcrew of the _Good Intent_, he said: "Sure, my men, you will not be beatby a boy and a one-armed man. There's a fortune for all of you in thosecarts. At them again, my men; I'll show you the way."
He was as good as his word. He snatched a long lathi from one of theBengalis and rushed up the slope to the hacked nearest the nullah.Finding a purchase for one end of his club in the woodwork of the wagon,he put forth all his strength in the effort to push it over the edge.Owing to the length of the lathi he was out of reach of the half-pikesin the hands of the boatmen, who had to lunge either over or under thecarts. His unaided strength would have been unequal to the task ofmoving the hackeri, heavily laden as it was, resting on soft soil, andinterlocked with the next. But as soon as his followers saw the aim ofhis movements, and especially when they found that the defenders couldnot touch him without exposing themselves, he gained as many eagerhelpers as could brine their lathis to bear upon the two carts.
Meanwhile the defence at this spot was weak, for the men of the _GoodIntent_ had swarmed up to the adjoining carts and were threatening atany moment to force a way over the barricade. They were more formidableenemies than the Bengalis. Slowly the two hackeris began to move, tillthe wheels of one hung over the edge of the nullah. One more unitedheave, and it rolled over, dragging the other cart with it and splittingitself into a hundred fragments on the rocky bottom. Through the gapthus formed in the barricade sprang Diggle, with half a dozen men of the_Good Intent_ and a score of Bengalis.
Desmond gathered his little band into a knot in the centre of theenclosure. Then the brazen sun looked down upon a Homeric struggle.Bulger, brawny warrior of the iron hook, swung his musket like a flail,every now and again shooting forth his more sinister weapon withterrible effect. Desmond, slim and athletic, dashed in upon the enemywith his half-pike as they recoiled before Bulger's whirling musket.The rest, now a bare dozen, Bengalis though they were, presented stillan undaunted front to the swarm that surged into the narrow space. Thehot air grew hotter with the fight.
To avoid being surrounded, the little band instinctively backed towardsthe edge of the nullah. Diggle exulted as they were pressedremorselessly to the rear. Not a man dreamt of surrender; the temper ofthe assailants was indeed so savage that nothing but the annihilation oftheir victims would now satisfy them. Yet Diggle once again bethoughthimself that Desmond might be worth to him more alive than dead, and inthe midst of the clamour Desmond heard him repeat his offer of reward tothe man who should capture him.
Diggle himself resolved to make the attempt. Venturing too near, hereceived an ugly gash from Desmond's pike, promising a permanent markfrom brow to chin. This was too much for him. Beside himself with fury,he yelled a command to his men to sweep the pigs over the brink, and,one side of his face livid with rage, the other streaming with blood, hedashed forward at Bulger, who had come up panting to engage him. He hadwell timed his rush, for Bulger's musket was at the far end of itspendulum swing; but the old seaman saw his danger in time. With amovement of extraordinary agility in a man of his bulk, he swung on hisheel, presenting his side to the rapier that flashed in Diggle's hand.Parrying the thrust with his hook, he shortened his stump and lunged atDiggle below the belt. His enemy collapsed as if shot; but hisfollowers swept forward over his prostrate body, and it seemed as if, inone brief half-minute, the knot of defenders would be hurled to thebottom of the nullah.
But, at this critical moment, assailants and defenders were strickeninto quietude by a tumultuous cheer, the cheer of Europeans, from thedirection of the gap in the barricade. Weapons remained poised inmid-air; every man stood motionless, wondering whether the interruptioncame from friend or foe. The question was answered on the instant.
"Now, men, have at them!"
With a thrill Desmond recognized the voice. It was the voice of SilasToley. There was nothing of melancholy in it, nor in the expression ofthe New Englander as he sprang, cutlass in hand, through the gap. Slowto take fire, when Toley's anger was kindled it blazed with a devouringflame. The crowd of assailants dissolved as if by magic. Before thelast of the crew of the _Hormuzzeer_, lascars and Europeans, had passedinto the enclosure, the men of the _Good Intent_ and their Bengaliallies were streaming over and under the carts towards the open. Diggleat the first shock had staggered to his feet and stumbled towards thebarricade. As he reached it, a black boy, springing as it were out ofthe earth, hastened to him and helped him to crawl between the wheels ofa cart and down the slope. On the boy's arm he limped towards hishorse, tethered to a tree. A wounded wretch was clumsily attempting tomount. Him Diggle felled; then he climbed painfully into the saddle andgalloped away, Scipio Africanus leaping up behind.
By this time his followers were dispersing in all directions--all buteight luckless men who would never more wield cutlass or lathi, and adozen who lay on one side or other of the barricade, too hard hit tomove.