Chapter 29

journey down the Hugli little to his liking.

The short twilight was thickening into darkness when Desmond, with face, legs, and arms stained brown, slipped out of the fort in native dress and walked slowly towards the houses of the native merchants. In his hand he carried a small bundle. Reaching the house where his party was staying, kept by one Abdul Kader, he almost betrayed himself by forgetting to slip off his sandals as he entered. But he bethought himself in time and was admitted without question.

He found that he was not a moment too soon. Bulger had taken up his quarters there with a very bad grace, the arrival of the Nawab's army having aroused in him the fighting spirit of the sturdy British tar. But when the news ran through the settlement that the fort was to be given up his feelings overcame him, and it was only with the greatest difficulty that Surendra Nath had persuaded him to wait patiently for orders from Desmond. Then the Babu himself had quitted the house, and Bulger was left without the restraint of anyone who could speak English. He was on the point of casting off all prudence and stalking out, like Achilles from his tent, when Desmond arrived.

"By thunder, sir!" he said, when he had recovered from his astonishment at seeing Desmond in native dress, "I en't a-goin' to surrender to no Moors, sure as my name's Bulger. 'Tis a downright scandalous shame; that's what I call it."

"Well, you can tell Mr. Watts so if ever you see him. At present we have no time to waste in talk. Where is Surendra Nath?"

"Gone to keep his weather eye on the codger's godown, sir."

"Which shows he's a man of sense. Are all the men here?"

"So far as I know, sir. I may be wrong."

"Well, they'll make their way in small parties down to the river. 'Tis dark enough now; they will not be noticed, and they can steal along the bank under the trees until they come near Coja Solomon's ghat. You must come with me."

"Very good, sir," replied Bulger, hitching up his breeches and drawing his hanger.

"But not like that. You'll have to get those black whiskers of yours shaved, my man. If they grew all over you'd pass perhaps for a Moor; but not with a fringe like that. And you must stain your face; I have the stuff in this bundle; and we'll borrow a dhoti and sandals from Abdul Kader. We'll dress you up between us."

Bulger looked aghast.

"Dash my buttons, sir, I'll look like a November guy! What would my mates say, a-seein' me dressed up like a stuffed Moor at Smithfield fair--a penny a shy, sir?"

"Your mates are not here to see you, and if you hold your tongue they'll never know it."

"But what about this little corkscrew o' mine, sir? I don't see any ways o' dressin' that up."

"You can stick it into your dhoti. Now here are soap and a razor; I give you ten minutes to shave and get your face stained; Abdul Kader will help. Quick's the word, man."

A quarter of an hour later Desmond left the house with Bulger, the latter, in spite of the darkness, looking very much ashamed of himself. The other members of the party had already gone towards the river. Walking very slowly until they had safely cleared the lines of the investing troops, the two hurried their pace and about half-past eight reached the Armenian godown. The three boats containing Mr. Merriman's goods were moored at the ghat. A number of men were on board, and bales were still being carried down by the light of torches. It appeared that Coja Solomon had no intention of leaving until the factory was actually in Rai Durlabh's hands.

Desmond had already decided that, to legalize his position, he must gain possession of the dastaks. Not that they would help him much if, as was only too probable, Coja Solomon should be backed up by the Nawab. As soon as it was discovered that the goods had been carried off, kasids would undoubtedly be sent along the banks, possibly swift boats would set off down the river in pursuit, and, dastaks or no dastaks, the goods would be impounded at Khulna or Hugli and himself arrested. It was therefore of the first importance that the loss of the boats should not be discovered until he was well on his way, and to insure this he must secure the person of Coja Solomon. If that could be done there was a chance of delaying the pursuit, or preventing it altogether.

Desmond kept well in the shelter of the palm trees as he made his observation of the ghat. He wondered where Surendra Nath was, but could not waste time in looking for him. Retracing his steps with Bulger for a little distance, he came to a spot on the river bank where the rest of his party were waiting in a boat, moored to an overhanging tree. He ordered the men to land; then, leaving Bulger in charge of them, he selected three of the armed peons and with them made his way across paddy {rice} fields toward the Armenian's house, a hundred yards or so from the bank.

Light came through the reed-screened window. Bidding the men remain outside and rush in if he called them, he left the shelter of the trees and, approaching the door, stumbled over the darwan lying across the threshold.

"Hai, darwan!" he said, with the bluntness of servant addressing servant; "sleeping again! Go and tell your master I'm here to see him: a khitmatgar from the fort."

The man rose sleepily and preceded him into the house. He made the announcement, salaamed and retired. Desmond went in.

In a little room on the ground floor Coja Solomon reclined on a divan, smoking his hubblebubble. A small oil lamp burnt on a bracket above his head. He looked up as Desmond entered; if he thought that his visitor was somewhat better set-up than the average khitmatgar, he did not suspect any disguise. The light was dim, and Coja Solomon was old.

"Good evening, Khwaja," said Desmond quietly.

The man jumped as if shot.

"No, don't get up, and don't make a noise. My business with you will not take long. I will ask you to hand over Mr. Merriman's dastaks. I know that they are in your possession. I have come to get them, and to take away the goods--Mr. Merriman's goods."

The Armenian had meanwhile removed the mouthpiece of his hubblebubble, and was bending over as if to replace it by one of several that lay on a shelf at his right hand. But Desmond noticed that beneath the shelf stood a small gong. He whipped out a pistol, and pointed it full at the merchant.

"Don't touch that," he said curtly. "I have not come unprepared, as you see. Your plans are known to me. If you value your life you will do as I wish, without delay or disturbance. My men are outside; a word from me will bring them swarming in. Now, the dastaks!"

Coja Solomon was an Armenian and a merchant; in neither capacity a fighting man. In a contest of wits he could be as cool and as ready as any man in Bengal; but he had no skill in arms and no physical courage. There was an air of determination about his visitor that impressed him; and he felt by no means comfortable within point-blank range of the pistol covering him so completely. If his thoughts had been read, they would have run somewhat thus: "Pistols have been known to go off accidentally. What will the goods profit me if such an accident happen now? Besides, even if I yield there may still be a chance of saving them. It is a long way to Calcutta: the river is low: God be praised the rains have not begun! There are shallows and rocks along its course: the boats must go slowly: and the Nawab's horsemen can soon outstrip them on the banks. The dog of an Englishman thinks he has outwitted me: we shall see. And he is only a youth: let us see if Coja Solomon is not a match for him."

Rising to his feet, he smiled and shrugged, and spread out his hands deprecatingly.

"It is true the dastaks are here," he said suavely, "but they only reached me yesterday, and indeed, as soon as I received them, I had the goods put on board the boats for transit to Calcutta."

"That is very fortunate," said Desmond. "It will save my time. As Mr. Merriman's representative I will take over the goods--with the dastaks."

"If you will excuse me, I will fetch them."

"Stay!" said Desmond, as the man moved toward the door. He had not lowered the pistol. "Where are they?"

"They are in my office beside the godown."

"Very well. It would be a pity to trouble you to bring them here. I will go with you. Will you lead the way?"

He knew it was a lie. Valuable papers would not be left in a hut of an office, and he had already noticed a curiously wrought almara {cabinet} at one end of the room--just the place to keep documents.

There was the shadow of a scowl on the Armenian's face. The man hesitated; then walked towards the door: stopped as if at a sudden recollection; and turned to Desmond with a bland smile.

"I was forgetting," he said, "I brought the papers here for safety's sake."

He went to the almara, searched for a moment, and handed two papers to Desmond.

"There, sir," he said, with a quite paternal smile; "you take the responsibility. In these unfortunate circumstances"--he waved his hand in the direction of the factory--"it is, believe me, a relief to me to see the last of these papers.

"That is well."

But Desmond, as he took the papers, felt himself in a quandary. Though he could speak, he could not read Hindustani! The papers might not be the dastaks after all. What was he to do?

The peons were not likely to be able to read. He scanned the papers. There was the name Merriman in English characters, but all the rest was in native script. The smile hovering on the Armenian's face annoyed Desmond, and he was still undecided what to do when a voice at his elbow gave him welcome relief.

"Babu Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti," announced the darwan.

The Babu entered.

"Come and tell me if these are our dastaks," said Desmond.

The Babu ran his eyes over the papers, and declared:

"Yes, sir, they are the identical papers, and I perceive the signature of the Faujdar is dated three weeks ago."

"Thank you," said Desmond.

"Now, Coja Solomon, I must ask you to come with me."

"Why, sir--" began the Armenian, no longer smiling.

"I will explain to you by and by.--

"What is it, Surendra Nath?"

The Babu whispered a word or two in his ear.

"A happy thought!" said Desmond. "Surendra Nath suggests that I should borrow that excellent robe I see yonder, Khwaja; and your turban also. They will become me better than this khitmatgar's garb, I doubt not."

Coja Solomon looked on helplessly as Desmond exchanged his meaner garments for the richer clothes of his unwilling host.

"Now we will go. You will tell the darwan that you have gone down to the ghat, so that if a question is asked he will be at no loss for an answer."

In the faint light of the rising moon the barrel of the pistol gleamed as they came into the open. The Armenian marched between Desmond and the Babu. Behind came the three peons, moving as silently as ghosts.

"The Khwaja," said Desmond to them in the Armenian's hearing, as they reached the ghat, "is coming a little way with us down the river.

"You, Kristodas Das, will go and tell Bulger Sahib that I wish him to follow the Khwaja's boats at a few yards' distance, and to be prepared to board at any moment.

"You," turning to the other two peons, "will come with me. The Khwaja will send word to his durwan that he is going to Murshidabad by river and will not return tonight; his house is to be locked up. The Khwaja will, I am sure, give these orders correctly, for Surendra Nath will understand better than I what he says."

With the Babu, the two peons, and Coja Solomon, who was now obviously ill at ease, Desmond went down the ghat to the place where the crews of the petalas were assigned to him. The man dared not depart by a jot from the words put into his mouth. One of his coolies left with the message, the rest followed their employer on board with Desmond and his companions, and in a few minutes the three boats were cast off and stood upstream. As they started Desmond saw the boat containing Bulger and his men slip from the shade of the trees and begin to creep after them.

The boats had not gone more than a couple of hundred yards upstream when Coja Solomon, at Desmond's orders, bade the men row toward the opposite shore and turn the boats' heads round, explaining that he had decided after all to convey the goods to Hugli. There was some grumbling among the crew, who had expected to go to Murshidabad, and did not relish the prospect of the longer voyage. But the Armenian, knowing that every word was overheard by Desmond's men, made haste to pacify the boatmen.

It was by no means easy work getting down the river. The boats were flat bottomed and drew very little water; but the stream being very low, they stuck fast time after time in the shallows. By day the boatmen might have picked their way more carefully, but the moon was new and shed too little light for river navigation. More than once they had to leap overboard and, wading, shove and haul until the boats came off the mud banks into practicable water again. They rowed hard when the course was clear, encouraged by promises of liberal bakshish made by their employer at Desmond's prompting. But the interruptions were so frequent that the dawn found the boats only some thirty miles from their starting-point. The river being here a little deeper, Desmond could afford to let the rowers take a much-needed rest, while the boats floated down with the stream.

But as the day wore on the river again played them false, and progress was at times reduced to scarcely more than two miles an hour. Things had been uncomfortable in the night, but the discomforts were increased tenfold in the day. It was the hottest season of the year; out of the clear sky the sun's rays beat down with pitiless ferocity; the whole landscape was a-quiver with heat; all things seemed to swoon under the oppression. The petalas, being cargo boats, were not provided with any accommodation or conveniences for passengers; and Desmond's thoughts as he lay panting on his mat, haggard from want of sleep, faint from want of food--for though there was rice on board, and the men ate freely, he had no appetite for that--reverted to the worst period of his imprisonment in Gheria, and he recalled the sufferings he had endured there.

Here at least he was free. His journey had so far been unmolested, and he hoped that the happy chance that had favored him at Cossimbazar would not fail him now.

He was in a fever of impatience; yet the men were doing their best. They passed the mud walls of Cutwa; another stage of the journey was safely completed; but twelve miles lower down there was a post at Path; and with every mile the danger grew.

Desmond talked over the situation with the Babu. Surendra Nath agreed that by nightfall, if no unforeseen delay occurred, they might hope to be in the neighborhood of Khulna, and arrive there before any messenger carrying news of the escape.

But there was little or no chance of the same good fortune at Hugli. The prize was so valuable that every effort would certainly be made to stop them. A whole day or more might pass before the reason of Coja Solomon's absence was discovered. But when the discovery was made fast runners would be sent to Khulna and Hugli, and by relays the distance between Cossimbazar and Hugli could be covered in twenty-four hours. Supposing such a messenger started at nightfall on June fifth, nearly twenty-four hours after Coja Solomon's disappearance, he might well get to Hugli long before the fugitive boats, even if they were rowed all night without cessation; and the men were already so much fatigued that such continuous exertion could hardly be expected of them.

There was a further danger. If the news of the capture of Cossimbazar Fort had preceded him, he might be stopped at any of the riverside places without any reference to Coja Solomon's abduction, pending orders from the Nawab. Desmond's anxiety would have been largely increased had he known that Sirajuddaula, before his men had actually marched into the fort, had already started with the bulk of his forces on his fateful march to Calcutta.

Desmond was still in conversation with the Babu when the little flotilla came in sight of Patli. Its approach was observed. A boat put off from the ghat, and awaited the arrival of Desmond's boat in midstream. As it came alongside an official ordered the men to cease rowing and demanded to know who was the owner of the goods on board and to see the dastaks. The Babu, to whom Desmond had intrusted the papers, showed them to the man; he scanned them, said that he was satisfied, and rowed back to the ghat.

Evidently he had no suspicions. During the short colloquy Desmond kept close beside the Armenian, who was well known to the riverside official; but Coja Solomon was thoroughly scared, and had not the presence of mind to do anything more than to acknowledge the customary salaam.

Desmond breathed freely once more now that Path was passed. But two-thirds of the journey still remained to be completed, and he dare not hope that at his slow rate of progress he would be able always to keep ahead of information from Cossimbazar. Seeing that he could not hasten his journey, he wondered whether it was possible to put pursuers off the scent. After thinking for a while he said to the Babu, out of hearing of the Armenian:

"I have an idea, Surendra Nath: tell me what you think of it. Did you not tell me as we came up that there is a gumashta {agent} of the Company at Santipur?"

"Certainly I did, sir."

"Well, as we are, I fear, sure to be cut off by water, may we not take to the land? Could not the gumashta get us a dozen hackeris {bullock carts}? We could transfer the goods to them and elude our pursuers perhaps long enough for help to arrive from Calcutta."

"That is good counsel, sir; why should we not do so?"

Accordingly, when they came to the spot where the high road crossed the river by a ford, Desmond ordered his men to row in to the left bank. Selecting two men who knew the country, he bade them land and make the best speed in carrying out instructions which he proceeded to give them.

"You, Mohun Lal," he said, "will go to Santipur, quickly, avoiding observation, and request the gumashta in Merriman Sahib's name to have twelve hackeris, or as many as he can collect, ready to receive loads two or three hours before tomorrow's dawn. He must get them from the villages, not from Khulna or Amboa, and he must not tell anyone why he requires the carts.

"You, Ishan, will go on to Calcutta, find Merriman Sahib, and ask him to send a body of armed men along the Barrakpur road towards Santipur. You will tell him what we have done, and also that Cossimbazar Fort is in the hands of the Nawab, and Watts Sahib a prisoner. He may know this already. You both understand?"

The men salaamed and started on their journey.