CHAPTER THE TWENTY-EIGHTH
*In which Captain Barker has cause to rue the day when he met Mr.Diggle; and our hero continues to wipe off old scores.*
Desmond received a warm welcome both from Admiral Watson and ColonelClive. His account of the manner in which he had defeated Manik Chand'sscheme for blocking the river was received with shouts of laughter,while his ingenuity and courage were warmly commended by both officers.Indeed, the admiral, always more impulsive than Clive, offered him onthe spot a lieutenancy in the fleet, and was not very well pleased whenDesmond politely declined the honour. Desmond caught a gleam ofapproval in Clive's eyes, and later in the day, when he saw his heroalone, he felt well rewarded.
"A naval lieutenant ranks higher than a lieutenant in the army--Isuppose you know that, Burke?" said Clive.
"Yes, sir."
"And you're only a cadet. From to-day you are a lieutenant, my lad. Iam pleased with you, and whatever his enemies say of Bob Clive, no oneever said of him that he forgot a friend."
The forces proceeded to Calcutta next day, and retook the town withsurprising ease. Manik Chand was so much alarmed by seeing the effectof the big guns of the fleet that he abandoned the place almost withoutstriking a blow, and when the British troops entered they were too lateeven to make any prisoners save a few of the rag-tag and bobtail in therear.
Mr. Merriman returned to Calcutta a few days later. Desmond was grievedto observe how rapidly he was aging. In spite of Clive's recommendationto keep silence he could not refrain from telling his friend what he haddiscovered about the missing ladies; and he did not regret it, for theknowledge that they were alive and, when last heard of, out of Peloti'sclutches, acted like a tonic. Merriman was all eagerness to set off andsearch for them himself; but, Desmond pointing out the danger of such acourse, he reluctantly agreed to wait a little longer, and see whetherany news could be obtained during the operations which Clive wasplanning against the Nawab.
Meanwhile, Desmond learnt from Bulger what had happened to him since thefall of Calcutta. He was one of the hundred and forty-six thrown intothe Black Hole.
"'Tis only by the mercy of the Almighty I'm here to-day," he saidsolemnly. "I saw what 'twould be as soon as the door of that Black Holewas locked, and me and some others tried to force it. 'Twern't no good.Mr. Holwell--he's a brave man, an' no mistake--begged an' prayed of usall to be quiet; but lor' bless you, he might ha' saved his breath.'Twas a hot night; we soon began to sweat most horrible an' feel aragin' thirst. We took off most of our clothes, an' waved our hats toset the air a-movin'; which 'twas hard enough work, 'cos we was packedso tight. I en't a-going' to tell you all the horrors o' that night,sir; I'd like uncommon to forget 'em, though I don't believe I nevershall. 'Twas so awful that many a poor wretch begged of the Moorsoutside to fire on 'em. Worst was when the old jamadar put skins o'water in at the window. My God! them about me fought like demons, whichif I hadn't flattened myself against the wall I should ha' been crushedor trodden to death, like most on 'em. For me, I couldn't get near thewater; I sucked my shirt sleeves, an' 'tis my belief 'twas on'y thatsaved me from goin' mad. A man what was next me took out his knife an'slit a vein, 'cos he couldn't bear the agony no longer. Soon arter, Ifell in a dead faint, an' knowed no more till I found myself on my backoutside, with a Moor chuckin' water at me. They let me go, along withsome others; and a rotten old hulk I was, there en't no mistake aboutthat. Why, bless you, my skin come out all boils as thick as barnacleson a hull arter a twelve months' voyage, all 'cos o' being in sich badair without water. And then the fever came aboard, an' somehow or otherI got shipped to the mounseers' hospital at Chandernagore, which theywas very kind to me, sir; there en't no denyin' that. I may be wrong,but I could take my oath, haffidavy, an' solemn will an' testament thata mounseer's got a heart inside of his body arter all, which makes himall the better chap to have a slap at if you come to think of the whyan' wherefore of it."
"But how came you on board the _Tyger_?"
"Well, when my boils was gone an' the fever slung overboard, I got downto Fulta an' held on the slack there; an' when the ships come up, theysent for me, 'cos havin' sailed up an' down the river many a time, theythought as how I could do a bit o' pilotin', there not bein' enoughDutch pilots to go round. An' I ha' had some fun, too, which I wonder Ican laugh arter that Black Hole and all. By thunder! 'tis a merry sightto see the Moors run. The very look of a cutlass a'most turns 'emwhite, and they well-nigh drops down dead if they see a sailor man.Why, t'other day at Budge-Budge--they ought to call it Fudge-Fudge now,seems to me--the Jack-tars went ashore about nightfall to help thelobsters storm the fort in the dark. But Colonel Clive he was dog-tiredan' went to his bed, sayin' as how he'd lead a boardin' party in themornin'. That warn't exactly beans an' bacon; nary a man but would ha'took a big dose o' fever if they'd laid out on the fields all night.Anyways, somewhere about eleven, an' pitch dark, a Jack which his nameis Strahan--a Scotchman, by what they say--went off all alone by himselfto have a sort of private peep at that there fort. He was pretty wellfilled up wi' grog, or pr'aps he wouldn't ha' been quite so venturesome.Well, he waded up to his chin in a ditch o' mud what goes round thefort, with his pistols above his head. When he gets over, bang goes onepistol, an' he sets up a shout: 'One and all, my boys! one and all,hurray!' a-dreamin' I s'pose as he was captain of a boardin' party an' acrew o' swabs behind him. Up he goes, up the bastion; bang goes t'otherpistol; then he outs with his cutlass, a-roarin' hurray with a voicelike a twelve-pounder; down goes three o' them Moors; another breaksJack's cutlass with his scimitar; bless you, what's he care? don't carea straw, which his name is Strahan; he've got a fist, he have, an' hedashes it in the Moor's face, collars his scimitar, cuts his throat andsings out 'Ho, mateys! this 'ere fort's mine!' Up comes three or fourof his mates what heard his voice; they swings round the cannon on thebastion an' turns it on the enemy; bang! bang! and bless your heart, theMoors cut and run, an' the fort was ourn."
At the moment Desmond thought that Bulger was drawing the long bow. Butmeeting Captain Speke of the _Kent_ a little later, he asked how muchtruth there was in the story.
"'Tis all true," said the captain, laughing, "but not the whole truth.The day after Strahan's mad performance the admiral sends for him:discipline must be maintained, you know. 'What's this I hear aboutyou?' says Mr. Watson, with a face of thunder. Strahan bobbed, andscratched his head, and twirled his hat in his hand, and says: 'Why tobe sure, sir, 'twas I took the fort, and I hope there en't no harm init!' By George! 'twas as much as the admiral could do to keep astraight face. He got the fellow to tell us about it: we had our facesin our handkerchiefs all the time. Then Mr. Watson gave him a prettyrough wigging, and wound up by saying that he'd consult me as to thenumber of lashes to be laid on. You should have seen the fellow's face!As he went out of the cabin I heard him mutter: 'Well, if I'm to beflogged for this 'ere action, be hanged if I ever take another fortalone by myself as long as I live!'"
"Surely he wasn't flogged?" said Desmond, laughing heartily.
"Oh no! Mr. Watson told us as a matter of form to put in a plea for thefellow, and then condescended to let him off. Pity he's such a loosefish!"
For two months Desmond remained with Clive. He was with him at thecapture of Hugli, and in that brisk fight at Calcutta on February 5which gave the Nawab his first taste of British quality. Siraj-uddaulawas encamped to the north-east of the town with a huge army. In a heavyfog, about daybreak, Clive came up at the head of a mixed force ofKing's troops, sepoys and sailors, some 2,000 men in all. Hordes ofPersian cavalry charged him through the mist, but they were beaten off,and Clive forced his way through the enemy's camp until he came near theNawab's own tents, pitched in Omichand's garden. Siraj-uddaula himselfwas within an ace of being captured. His troops made but a poor standagainst the British, and by midday the battle was over.
Scared by this defeat, the Nawab was ready to conclude with the Companythe treaty which
long negotiations had failed to effect. By this treatythe trading privileges granted to the Company by the Emperor of Delhiwere confirmed; the Nawab agreed to pay full compensation for the lossessustained by the Company and its servants; and the right to fortifyCalcutta was conceded. The long-standing grievances of the Company werethus, on paper, redressed.
A day or two after the battle a ship arrived with the news that war hadbeen declared in Europe between England and France. Efforts to maintainneutrality between the English and French in Bengal having failed, Clivewished the Nawab to join him in an attack on the French settlements inBengal. This the Nawab refused to do, though he wrote promising that hewould hold as enemies all who were enemies of Clive--a promise that borebitter fruit before many months had passed.
The French were keen rivals of the Company in the trade of India, andconstantly took advantage of native troubles to score a point in thegame. Clive had come to Bengal with the full intention of making theCompany, whose servant he was, supreme; and having secured the treatywith Siraj-uddaula he resolved to turn his arms against the French.They were suspected of helping the Nawab in his expedition againstCalcutta: it was known that the Nawab, treating his engagements withreckless levity and faithlessness, was trying to persuade Bussy, theFrench commander in the Dekkan, to help him to expel the British fromBengal. There was excuse enough for an attack on Chandernagore.
But before Clive could open hostilities, he was required, by an oldarrangement with the Mogul, to obtain permission from the Nawab. Thispermission was at length got from him by Omichand. The sack of Calcuttaby the Nawab had caused Omichand great loss, and, hoping in part toretrieve it, he made his peace with Clive and the Council, and was thenselected to accompany Mr. Watts when he went as British representativeto Murshidabad. The wily Sikh, working always for his own ends,contrived to make the unstable young despot believe that the French weretricking him, and in a fit of passion he sealed a letter allowingAdmiral Watson to make war upon them. He repented of it immediately,but the letter was gone. On the day after it reached the Admiral, March12, 1757, Clive sent a summons to Monsieur Renault, the governor ofChandernagore, to surrender the fort. No reply was received that day,and Clive resolved, failing a satisfactory answer within twenty-fourhours, to read King George's declaration of war and attack the French.
Desmond was breakfasting among a number of his fellow-officers nextmorning when up came Hossain, the serang who had accompanied him in hiseventful journeys up and down the Hugli. Lately he had been employed,on Desmond's recommendation, in bringing supplies up the river for thetroops. The man salaamed and said that he wished to say a few wordsprivately to the sahib. Desmond rose, and went apart with him. Atsunrise, said the man, a vessel flying Dutch colours had dropped downthe river past the English fleet. Her name was Dutch, and herdestination Rotterdam; but Hossain was certain that she was really the_Good Intent_, which Desmond had pointed out to him as they passedChandernagore, and which they had more than once seen since in thecourse of their journeys. Her appearance had attracted some attentionon the fleet; and the _Tyger_ had sent a shot after her, ordering her toheave to; but having a strong north-east wind behind her, she took nonotice of the signal and held on her course. Desmond thanked Hossainfor the information, and, leaving his breakfast unfinished, went off atonce to see Clive, whom he was to join that morning on a tour ofinspection of the north-west part of the French settlement.
"Well, I don't see what we can do," said Clive, when Desmond repeatedthe news to him. "Mr. Watson no doubt suspected her when it was toolate. Nothing but a regular chase could have captured her after she hadpassed. Ships can't be spared for that; they've much more importantwork on hand."
"Still, 'tis a pity, sir," said Desmond. "'Tis not only that CaptainBarker is an interloper; he has been in league with pirates, and hisbeing at Chandernagore all these months means no good."
"It means at any rate that he hasn't been able to get a cargo. Trade'sat a standstill. Well, I'd give something to lay Mr. Barker and hiscrew by the heels--on behalf of the Company, Burke, for don't forget, assome of our friends of the Calcutta Council do, that I am here to savethe Company, not their private property. 'Tis too late to stop thevessel now."
"I'd like to try, sir."
"I daresay you would. You're as ready to take risks as I am," he added,with his characteristic pursing of the lips; "and 'pon my word, you'rejust as lucky! For I'm lucky, Burke; there's no doubt of it. Thataffair at Calcutta might have done for us but for the morning mist. I'dlike to try myself. It would punish a set of rogues, and discourageinterloping, to the benefit of the Company. But I can't spare men forthe job. Barker has no doubt a large crew; they'll be on the look-outfor attack; no, I can't touch it."
Desmond hesitated for a moment. He did not wish to lose the fighting atChandernagore, but he had the strongest personal reasons for desiringthe arrest of the _Good Intent_.
"Do you think, sir, we shall capture this place to-morrow?" he askedsuddenly.
"Scarcely, my boy," said Clive, "nor by to-morrow week unless the Frenchhave forgotten how to fight. Why do you ask?"
"Because if you'd give me leave I'd like to have a shot at the _GoodIntent_--provided I got back in time to be with you in the fightingline, sir."
"Well, I can't keep things waiting, even for you," said Clive with asmile; "and it seems a wild-goose chase--rather a hazardous one."
"I'd risk that, sir. I could get together some men in Calcutta, and I'dhope to be back here in a couple of days."
"Well, well, Burke, you'd wheedle the Mogul himself. Any one could tellyou're an Irishman. Get along then; do your best, and if you don't comeback I'll try to take Chandernagore without you."
He smiled as he slapped Desmond on the shoulder. Well pleased with hisready consent, Desmond hurried away, got a horse, and, riding hard,reached Calcutta by eight o'clock and went straight to Mr. Merriman.Explaining what was afoot he asked for the loan of the men of the_Hormuzzeer_. Merriman at once agreed; Captain Barker was a friend ofPeloti; and he needed no stronger inducement. Desmond hurried down tothe river; the _Hormuzzeer_ was lying off Cruttenden Ghat, and Mr. Toleyfor once broke through his settled sadness of demeanour when he learntof the expedition proposed.
While Toley collected the crew and made his preparations, Desmondconsulted a pilot. The _Good Intent_ had passed Calcutta an hourbefore; but the man said that, though favoured by the wind, she wouldscarcely get past the bar at Mayapur on the evening tide. She might doso if exceptionally lucky; in that case there would be very littlechance of overtaking her.
Less than two hours after Desmond reached Calcutta two budgeros leftCruttenden Ghat. Each was provided with a double complement of men, andalthough the sails filled with a strong following wind, their oars werekept constantly in play. The passengers on board were for the most partunaccustomed to this luxurious mode of travelling. There were a dozenlascars; Hossain the serang; Karim, the man saved by Desmond atChandernagore; Bulger and the second mate of the _Hormuzzeer_, and Mr.Toley, who, like Desmond and the serang, was clothed, much to Bulger'samusement, as a fairly well-to-do ryot.
For some hours the tide was contrary, but when it turned, the budgeros,under the combined impulse of sail, oar and current, made swiftprogress, arousing some curiosity among the crews of riverside craft,little accustomed to the sight of budgeros moving so rapidly.Approaching Mayapur, Desmond descried the spars of the _Good Intent_ along way ahead. Was there enough water to allow her to pass the bar? hewondered. Apparently there was, for she kept straight on her courseunder full sail. Desmond bit his lips with vexation, and had almostgiven up hope, though he did not permit any slackening of speed, when tohis joy he saw the vessel strike her topsails, then the rest of hercanvas. He at once ran his boats to the shore at Mayapur. There were anumber of river craft at the place, so that the movements of hisbudgeros, if observed from the _Good Intent_, were not likely to awakensuspicion. On landing, he went to the house of a native merchant, BabuAghor
Nath Bose, to whom he had a letter from Mr. Merriman.
"Can you arrange for us," he said, when civilities had been exchanged,"to-night, the loan of two shabby old country boats?"
The native considered.
"I think I can, sahib," he said at length. "I would do much forMerriman Sahib. A man I frequently employ is now anchored off my ghat.No doubt, for fair pay, he and another might be persuaded to lend theircraft."
"Very well, be good enough to arrange it. I only require the boats fora few hours to-morrow morning. Do you think twenty rupees wouldsuffice?"
The native opened his eyes. He himself would not have offered so much.But he said--
"Doubtless that will suffice, sahib. The matter is settled."
"I will meet you in an hour. Thank you."
Returning to the budgeros, Desmond instructed Hossain to go into thebazar and buy up all the fresh fruit he could find. The sales for theday were over, but Hossain hunted up the fruit sellers and bargained sosuccessfully that when he returned he was accompanied by a whole gang ofcoolies, bearing what seemed to Desmond an appalling quantity of melons,all for thirty rupees.
Before this, however, Aghor Nath Bose had reported that the hire of thetwo boats was duly arranged. They were open boats, little more thanbarges, with a small cabin or shelter aft. Their crews had beendismissed and had taken their belongings ashore; both were empty ofcargo. Desmond went with Bulger on board and arranged a number ofbamboos crosswise on the boats, covering up the empty spaces which wouldusually be occupied by merchandise. Over the bamboos he placed a layerof thin matting, and on this, when Hossain returned, he ordered thecoolies to put the melons. To a casual observer it would have appearedthat the boats were laden with a particularly heavy cargo of the goldenfruit.
An hour before dawn the lascars and others from the _Hormuzzeer_ slippedquietly from the budgeros on board the country boats, and bestowedthemselves as best they could under the bamboo deck supporting themelons. It was cool in the early morning, although the hot season wasapproaching; but Desmond did not envy the men their close quarters.They were so much excited, however, at the adventure before them, and soeager to earn the liberal reward promised them if it succeeded, that nota man murmured. The Europeans had cooler quarters in the rude cabins,where they were hidden from prying eyes under miscellaneous nativewraps.
Desmond had learnt from the pilot that it would be nearly eight o'clockbefore the depth of water over the bar was sufficient to allow a shiplike the _Good Intent_ to proceed with safety. A little before daybreakthe two boats crept out from the ghat. It was well to avoid curiositybefore Mayapur woke up. Desmond steered the first, Hossain the second;and besides the steersman there were two men visible on the deck ofeach. The tide was running up, but the wind still held from thenorth-east, and, though moderated in force since the evening, it wasstrong enough to take them slowly down towards the _Good Intent_. Thesky was lightening, but a slight mist hung over the river. Desmond kepta close look-out ahead, and in a quarter of an hour he caught sight ofthe hull of the _Good Intent_, looming before him out of the mist.Allowing the second boat to come alongside, he turned and spoke to theserang.
"Now, Hossain, there she is. Hail her."
"Eo, eo!" shouted the man. "Do the sahibs want to buy any fresh fruit?"
An oath floated down from the stern. Captain Barker was there, peeringintently through the mist up the river.
"Good melons, sahib, all fresh, and not too ripe. Cheap as ragi,sahib."
The mate had joined the captain; the Dutch pilot stood by smoking apipe. The fruit boats had by this time come under the stern of thevessel, and Desmond heard the mate say--
"We came away in such a hurry, sir, that we hadn't time to take in asupply of vegetables. Melons'll keep, sir, if they en't over-ripe."
Barker growled, then bent over and called to the serang. "How much?"
"Very cheap, sahib, very cheap. I will come aboard."
"Then be quick about it: we're going to trip the anchor, melons or nomelons. D'ye hear?"
Hossain ran down the sail and clambered up the chains, while the otherboatmen made fast to a rope thrown from the deck. Desmond also loweredhis sail, steering so as to approach the port quarter of the _GoodIntent_, the serang's boat being on the starboard. No rope was thrownto him, but he found that the tide was now only strong enough toneutralize the wind, and a stroke every now and again with the paddle atthe stern kept his boat stationary.
Meanwhile there came from the deck the sing-song of men heaving up theanchor. When the serang stepped on board the greater part of the crewof the _Good Intent_ were forward. Little time was spent in haggling.A melon was thrown up as a sample, and the price asked was soextraordinarily low that Captain Barker evidently thought he had got abargain.
"Heave 'em up," he said, "and if they en't all up to sample----"
He broke off, no doubt believing that his fierce scowl was sufficient topoint his threat. The serang hailed Desmond to come alongside. A fewsweeps of the paddle brought the boat close underneath the _GoodIntent's_ side, and a second rope enabled him to make fast.
He swarmed up the rope, followed by one of the boatmen. The other onthe boat began to fill a basket with melons, as if preparing to sendthem on board. At the same time Karim joined Hossain from the otherside, so that there were now four of the party on deck. At a sign fromDesmond, the two natives, carrying out instructions previously given,strolled towards the companion way. Hossain had started a conversationwith the captain and mate, telling them about the British fleet he hadpassed as he came down the river. The Dutch pilot looked on, stolidlypuffing his pipe.
Desmond stepped to the side of the vessel as though to hoist the basketwith the running tackle. Making a sign to the men below, he called in aloud voice--
"Tano!"
Instantly the men swarmed up the rope. At the signal, misleading to thecrew of the _Good Intent_, man after man crawled from beneath thematting on the boat below, and clambered up the ropes, led by Bulger onone side and Mr. Toley on the other. They made little noise, and thatwas drowned by the sing-song of the sailors and the grinding of thecables; the pilot with his back to the bulwarks saw nothing, and beforeCaptain Barker knew that anything unusual was occurring both Bulger andToley were tumbling over the sides. The captain stood almost petrifiedwith amazement as he saw Bulger's red face rising like the morning sun.He stepped back a pace.
"What the----"
The exclamation was never completed. Desmond stepped up to him, and ina low voice said--
"In the name of His Majesty King George I call upon you, Captain Barker,to surrender this ship."
He had a levelled pistol in his hand. Bulger with a cutlass sprang toone side, and Toley ranged himself on the other. Hossain had joined thetwo boatmen at the companion way; all had brought out pistols from thefolds of their clothing, and the companion way commanded access to theship's armoury.
Barker, who had grown purple at the sight of Bulger, now turned a sicklywhite. The mate dashed forward, calling to the crew, who, seeing thatsomething was amiss, came along with a rush, arming themselves withbelaying pins and any other weapons that came handy. Toley, however,leaving the cowed and speechless captain to Desmond, stepped towards themen. They recognized him at once and paused doubtfully.
"You know me," he said. "I'm a man of few words. You won't go furtherthis voyage. Captain Barker has surrendered the ship. You'll dropthose desperate things in your hands and go for'ard. Show a leg, now!"
The men looked from one to another, then at the captain, who was at thatmoment handing over his sword to Desmond. If Captain Barker was toobadly beaten to swear, he was in poor case indeed. The crew'shesitation was but momentary: under Toley's sad gaze they sullenly flungdown their weapons and went forward. Only then did the captain findspeech. But it was to utter a fearful curse, ending with the name--
"Diggle."