Part 30

"Burke, my boy," he said, "'tis a mighty odd thing. Mr. Clive is not partial to Councils; has had enough of 'em at Madras first, and lately at Calcutta. D'you know, I don't understand Mr. Clive; I don't believe any one does. In the field he is as bold as a lion, fearless, quick to see what to do at the moment, never losing a chance. Yet more than once I've noticed, beforehand, a strange hesitation. He gets fits of the dumps, broods, wonders whether he is doing the right thing, and is as touchy as a bear with a sore head. Well, 'tis almost noon; I must be off; we'll see what the Council has to say."

Desmond watched the Major almost with envy as he went off to this momentous meeting. How he wished he was a little older, a little higher in rank, so that he too might have the right to attend! He lay back in the tent wondering what the result of the Council would be. "If they asked for my vote," he thought, "I'd say fight;" and then he laughed at himself for venturing to have an opinion.

By and by Major Killpatrick returned.

"Well, my boy," he said, "we've carried our point--twelve against seven!"

"For fighting?"

"No, my young firebrand; against fighting. You needn't look so chopfallen. There'll be a fight before long; but we're going to run no risks. We'll wait till the monsoon is over and we can collect enough men to smash the Subah."

"Was that Colonel Clive's decision?"

"'Twas indeed. But let me tell you. There was a comical thing to start with. Lieutenant Hayter, one of Watson's men, was bid to the Council, but the nincompoop was huffed because he wasn't allowed precedence of the Company's captains. These naval men's airs are vastly amusing. He took himself off. Then Mr. Clive put the case; fight at once, or wait. Against the custom, he voted himself first--against immediate action. Then he asked me and Grant in turn; we voted with him. 'Twas Eyre Coote's turn next; he voted t'other way, and gave his reasons--uncommonly well, I must admit. He said our men were in good spirits, and had been damped enough by the rains. The Frenchman Law might come up and join the Nawab, and then every froggy who entered our service after Chandernagore would desert and fight against us. We're so far from Calcutta that 'twould be difficult to protect our communications. Those were his reasons. I watched Clive while Coote was speaking; he stuck his lips together and stared at him; and, have you noticed? he squints a trifle when he looks hard. Well, the voting went on, and ended as I said--twelve against immediate action, seven for."

"How did the Bengal men vote?"

"I'm bound to say, for--except Le Beaume. 'Twas the Madras men who outvoted 'em."

"Well, with all respect, sir, I think the opinion of the Bengal men, who know the people and the country, ought to have outweighed the opinion of strangers. Still, it would be difficult to oppose Colonel Clive."

Further conversation was cut short by the arrival of a messenger summoning Desmond to attend the colonel.

"Where is he?" he asked.

"Under a clump of trees beyond the camp, sir. He's been there by himself an hour or more."

Desmond hurried off. On the way he met Major Coote.

"Hullo, Burke," cried the major; "you've heard the news?"

"Yes, and I'm sorry for it."

"All smoke, my dear boy, all smoke. Colonel Clive has been thinking it over, and has decided to disregard the decision of the Council and cross the river at sunrise to-morrow."

Desmond could not refrain from flinging up his hat and performing other antics expressive of delight; he was caught in the act by Clive himself, who was returning to his tent.

"You're a madcap, Burke," he said. "Come to my tent."

He employed Desmond during the next hour in writing orders to the officers of his force. This consisted of about 900 Europeans, 200 topasses, a few lascars, and some 2,000 sepoys. Eight six-pounders and two howitzers formed the whole of the artillery. Among the Europeans were about fifty sailors, some from the King's ships, some from merchantmen. Among the latter were Mr. Toley and Bulger, whose excellent service in capturing the _Good Intent_ had enforced their request to be allowed to accompany the little army.

Shortly before dawn on June 22 Clive's men began to cross the river. The passage being made in safety, they rested during the hot hours, and resumed their march in the evening amid a heavy storm of rain, often having to wade waist-high the flooded fields. Soon after midnight the men, drenched to the skin, reached a mango-grove somewhat north of the village of Plassey: and there, as they lay down in discomfort to snatch a brief sleep before dawn, they heard the sound of tom-toms and trumpets from the Nawab's camp three miles away.

"'Tis a real comfort, that there noise," remarked Bulger, as he stirred the camp-fire with his hook. Desmond had come to bid him good-night. "Ay, true comfort to a sea-goin' man like me. For why? 'Cos it makes me feel at home. Why, I don't sleep easy if there en't some sort o' hullabaloo--wind or wave, or, if ashore, cats a-caterwaulin'. No, Mr. Subah, Nawab, or whatsomdever you call yourself, you won't frighten Bill Bulger with your tum-tum-tumin'. I may be wrong, Mr. Burke, which I never am, but there'll be tum-tum-tum of another sort to-morrer."

The grove held by Clive's troops was known as the Laksha Bagh--the grove of a hundred thousand trees. It was nearly half a mile long and three hundred yards broad. A high embankment ran all round it, and beyond this a weedy ditch formed an additional protection against assault. A little north of the grove, on the bank of the river Cossimbazar, stood a stone hunting-box belonging to Siraj-uddaula. Still farther north, near the river, was a quadrangular tank, and beyond this a redoubt and a mound of earth. The river there makes a loop somewhat like a horseshoe in shape, and in the neck of land between the curves of the stream the Nawab had placed his intrenched camp.

His army numbered nearly 70,000 men, of whom 50,000 were infantry, armed with matchlocks, bows and arrows, pikes and swords. He had in all fifty-three guns, mounted on platforms drawn by elephants and oxen. The most efficient part of his artillery was commanded by Monsieur Sinfray, who had under him some fifty Frenchmen from Chandernagore. The Nawab's vanguard consisted of 15,000 men under his most trusty lieutenants, including Manik Chand and Mir Madan. Rai Durlabh, the captor of Cossimbazar, and two other officers commanded separate divisions.

Dawn had hardly broken on June 23, King George's birthday, when Mir Madan, with a body of picked troops, 7,000 foot, 5,000 horse, and Sinfray's artillery, moved out to the attack with great clamour of trumpets and drums. The remainder of the Nawab's army formed a wide arc about the north and east of the English position. Nearest to the grove was Mir Jafar's detachment. The English were arranged in four divisions, under Majors Killpatrick, Grant, and Coote, and Captain Gaupp. These had taken position in front of the embankment, the guns on the left, the Europeans in the centre, the sepoys on the right. Sinfray's gunners occupied an eminence near the tank, about two hundred yards in advance of the grove, and made such good play that Clive, directing operations from the Nawab's hunting-box, deemed it prudent to withdraw his men into the grove, where they were sheltered from the enemy's fire. The Nawab's troops hailed this movement with loud shouts, of exultation, and, throwing their guns forward, opened a still more vigorous cannonade, which, however, did little damage.

If Mir Madan had had the courage and dash to order a combined assault, there is very little doubt that he must have overwhelmed Clive's army by sheer weight of numbers. But he let the opportunity slip. Meanwhile Clive had sent forward his two howitzers and two large guns to check Sinfray's fire.

Midday came, and save for the cannonading no fighting had taken place. Clive left the hunting-box, called his officers together, and gave orders that they were to hold their positions during the rest of the day and prepare to storm the Nawab's camp at midnight. He was still talking to them when a heavy shower descended, the rain falling in torrents for an hour. Wet through, Clive hastened to the hunting-lodge to change his clothes. Scarcely had he departed when the enemy's fire slackened. Their ammunition, having been left exposed, had been rendered almost entirely useless by the rain. Fancying that the English gunners had been equally careless, Mir Madan ordered his horse to charge; but the Englishmen had kept their powder dry, and received the cavalry with a deadly fire that sent them headlong back. At this moment Mir Madan himself was killed by a cannon-ball, and his followers, dismayed at his loss, began a precipitate retreat to their entrenchments.

Clive was still absent. The sight of the enemy retreating was too much for Major Killpatrick. Forgetting the order to maintain his position, he thought the moment opportune for a general advance. He turned to Desmond, who had remained at his side all the morning, and said:

"Burke, run off to Mr. Clive, and tell him the Moors are retreating, and I am following up."

Desmond hurried away, and reached the hunting-box just as Clive had completed his change of clothes. He delivered his message. Then for the first time he saw Clive's temper at full blaze. With a passionate imprecation he rushed from the lodge, and came upon the gallant major just as he was about to lead his men to the assault.

"What the deuce do you mean, sir, by disobeying my orders? Take your men back to the grove, and be quick about it."

His tone stung like a whip. But Killpatrick had the courage of his opinions, and Desmond admired the frank manner in which he replied.

"I beg a thousand pardons, Mr. Clive, for my breach of orders, but I thought 'twas what you yourself, sir, would have done had you been on the spot. If we can drive the Frenchmen from that eminence yonder, we command the field, sir, and----"

"You're right, sir," said Clive, his rage subsiding as easily as it had arisen. "You're too far forward to retire now. I'll lead your companies. Bring up the rest of the men from the grove."

Placing himself at the head of two companies of grenadiers he continued the advance. Sinfray did not wait the assault. He hastily evacuated his position, retiring on the redoubt near the Nawab's entrenchments. It was apparent to Clive that the main body of the enemy was by this time much demoralized, and he was eager to make a vigorous attack upon them while in this state. But two circumstances gave him pause. To advance upon the entrenchments would bring him under a cross fire from the redoubt, and he had sufficient respect for the Frenchmen to hesitate to risk losses among his small body of men. Further, the movements of the enemy's detachments on his right caused him some uneasiness. He suspected that they were the troops of Mir Jafar and Rai Durlabh, but he had no certain information on that point, nor had he received a message from them. He knew that Mir Jafar was untrustworthy, therefore he was unwilling to risk a general assault until assured that the troops on his flank were not hostile to him. The doubt was suddenly resolved when he saw them check their movement, retire, and draw apart from the remainder of the Nawab's army. Giving the word at once to advance, he led his men to storm the redoubt and the mound on its right. For a short time Sinfray and his gallant Frenchmen showed a bold front; but the vigorous onslaught of the English struck fear into the hearts of his native allies; the news that the Nawab had decamped completed their panic, and then began a wild and disorderly flight: horsemen galloping from the field; infantry scampering this way and that; elephants trumpeting; camels screaming, as they charged through the rabble. With British cheers and native yells Clive's men poured into the Nawab's camp, some dashing on in pursuit of the enemy, others delaying to plunder the baggage and stores, of which immense quantities lay open to their hand. By half-past five on that memorable 23rd of June the battle was over--the battle that gave Britain immediately the wealthiest province of India and, indirectly, the mastery of the whole of that vast Empire. The loss to the British was only twenty-three killed and fifty wounded.

Clive rested for a while in Siraj-uddaula's tent, where he found on his inkstand a list of thirteen courtiers whom, even in that moment of dire extremity, the tyrant had condemned to death. From a prisoner it was learnt that the Nawab had escaped on a camel with two thousand horsemen, fleeing towards Murshidabad. All day he had been in a state of terror and agitation. Deprived of his bravest officer, Mir Madan; betrayed by his own relatives; the wretched youth had not waited for the critical moment. Himself carried to his capital the news of his defeat.

Orders were given to push on that night to Daudpur, six miles north of Plassey. But some little time was occupied by Clive's commissariat in replacing their exhausted bullocks with teams captured in the Nawab's camp. Meanwhile Clive sent Eyre Coote forward with a small detachment to keep the enemy on the run. Among those who accompanied him was Desmond, with Bulger and Mr. Toley. Desmond hoped that he would overtake and capture Monsieur Sinfray, from whom he thought it likely he might wrest information about Mrs. Merriman and her daughter. Diggle had made use of Sinfray's house; it was not improbable that the Frenchman knew something about the ladies. As for the seamen, they were so much disgusted at the tameness of the enemy's resistance that they were eager for anything that promised activity and adventure. Their eagerness was no whit diminished when Desmond mentioned what he had in his mind.

"By thunder, sir," said Bulger, "give me the chanst, and I'll larn the mounseer the why and wherefore of it. And as for Diggle--well, I maybe wrong, but I'll lay my share o' the prize money out o' the _Good Intent_ that he's hatchin' mischief, and not far off neither. Show a leg, mateys."

CHAPTER THE THIRTIETH

*In which Coja Solomon reappears; and gives our hero valuable information.*

Before Major Coote reached Daudpur he was overtaken by a horseman bearing a message from Clive.

"A job for you, Burke," said the major, after reading the note. "Mr. Clive is annoyed at the Nawab's escape, and thinks he may give us trouble yet if he can join hands with Law and his Frenchmen. I am to send you ahead to reconnoitre. You've been to Murshidabad, I think?"

"No, only to Cossimbazar; but that is not far off."

"Well, you know best part of the road, at any rate. The colonel wants you to go with a small party to Murshidabad and find out whether the Frenchmen have come within reach. You'll have to go on foot; take care you don't get into trouble. Pick your own men, of course. You must have a rest first."

"Two or three hours will be enough for me. If we start soon, we shall reach Murshidabad before dawn, and with little risk. I'm to come back and report, sir?"

"Of course. No doubt you will meet us on the way."

On reaching Daudpur Desmond selected twenty sepoys who knew the country, and ordered them to be ready to start with him at midnight. Bulger and Mr. Toley he had already informed of his mission, and he found them more than eager to share in it. Just after midnight the little party set out. A march of some four hours brought them to the outskirts of Murshidabad. Desmond called a halt, encamped for the remainder of the night in a grove of palmyras, and at dawn sent forward one of the sepoys, disguised as a ryot, to make inquiries as to what was happening in the town.

It was near midday when the man returned. He reported that the Nawab had gone to his palace, while the chiefs who had accompanied or followed him from the field of battle had shown their recognition that his cause was lost by deserting him and going to their own houses. He had heard nothing of the French. The Nawab, in order to ingratiate himself with the people, had thrown open his Treasury, from which all and sundry were carrying off what they pleased. The city was in such a disturbed state that it would be exceedingly unsafe for any stranger to enter.

Desmond decided to remain where he was until nightfall, and then to skirt the city and move northwards, in the hope of learning something definite of the movements of the French. Meanwhile he sent the man back to learn if anything happened during the day.

In the evening the man returned again. This time he reported that Mir Jafar had arrived with a large force and taken possession of the Nawab's palace of Mansurganj. Immediately after the traitor's arrival Siraj-uddaula had collected all the gold and jewels on which he could lay hands and fled with his women. Suspecting that the luckless Nawab was making for Rajmahal in the hope of meeting Law there, Desmond made up his mind to follow. He struck his camp, marched all night, and soon after daybreak reached a village near the river some miles south of Rajmahal.

He was surprised to find the village deserted. But passing a small house, he heard cries of distress, and going in he found the place full of smoke from some straw that had been kindled, and a man tied by his thumbs to a staple in the wall. He recognized the man in a moment. It was Coja Solomon, Mr. Merriman's rascally agent of Cossimbazar. He was half dead with pain and fright. Desmond cut him loose and hurried him out of the stifling room into the open, where Bulger revived him with copious douches of water until he was sufficiently recovered to explain his unhappy plight.

"God be praised!" exclaimed the Armenian fervently. "You were in time, sir. I was seeking safety. The Faujdar of Murshidabad villainously ill-used me. He owes me much, but there is no gratitude in him. I saw that neither my life nor my goods were safe, so I packed up what valuables I could and left with my servants, intending to go to Patna, where I have a house. I had just reached this village when I saw a band of some fifty horsemen approaching from the other end, and fearing that I might be set upon and plundered, I hastily concealed my goods at the edge of the tank hard by. Alas! it availed me nothing. My servants were dispersed, and the risaldar of the horsemen, a European, seized me and thrust me into this house, abandoned like all the rest, for the people fled before his approach, fearing he would burn and destroy. Then I was tied up as you saw, until I confessed where my valuables were hidden: one of my servants must have betrayed me. The risaldar promised to release me as soon as I should confess; but instead of that he set fire to the straw out of pure villainy, for what could I do to him? I have been a good friend to the English. Sir, pursue that man: he must be a Frenchman. I will give you a quarter, nay, a third of my goods, if you recover them."

"That is impossible, Khwaja. I've only twenty men on foot: what is the use of pursuing fifty on horseback? Your friendship for the British has come, I fear, a little too late."

The Armenian wrung his hands in despair, whining that he was a ruined man. Then his tone changed; was there not still a chance? He explained that, some hours before his capture, he had met a man who recognized him as the agent of Mr. Merriman. The man said that he was a servant of Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti, and was on his way to meet Clive Sahib, carrying a letter to him from his master. But he was worn out, having come many miles through the heat without rest. Coja Solomon unblushingly confessed that, while the man slept at midday, he had taken the letter from him and read it.

"Why did you do that?"

"I thought it would be safer with me, for every one knows----"

"Yes, that'll do, Khwaja; go on with your story."

"The letter was written at Manda, a village on the other side of the river, and the writer, Surendra Nath, informed Mr. Clive that the wife and daughter of Mr. Merriman were in his house there, and asked him to send a party to bring them away. Naturally, sir, I was pleased to find----"

"Go on with your story," cried Desmond impatiently, all excitement at coming upon the track of the ladies at last.

"It was while I was reading the letter that the horsemen came up. The risaldar took it from me, read it, and questioned me. His face changed; he smiled evilly, and from the questions he asked me, and from what I heard him say to his followers, he has gone to Manda, with a design to take these ladies."

"Stay, Khwaja; what was he like?"

"He was a tall man, with scars on his face, and on his right hand he wore a black glove."

"The scoundrel!" exclaimed Desmond. His look of trouble and anxiety did not escape the Armenian.

"It is but a little since he left me," he said. "If you make your way to the village--it is three coss on the other side of the river--you may capture him, sir, as well as regain my property, a third of which is yours."

"But how--how, man?" cried Desmond impatiently. "How can we overtake him on foot?"

"He will have to ride near to Rajmahal to find a ford, sir. He will cross there, and ride back down the river some five coss before he comes to Manda."

"But could he not swim the river?"

"He could, sir, but it is a feat he is not likely to attempt, seeing that there is no need for haste. I implore you, sir, start at once. Otherwise I am a ruined man; my old age will be spent in poverty and distress."

"If he cannot cross, how can I?" said Desmond.

"There is sure to be a boat on the bank, sir, unless they have all been seized by the Nawab, who, rumour says, is coming from Bhagwangola by river to Rajmahal."

Desmond felt uneasy and perplexed. He doubted whether his duty to Clive did not forbid him to go in search of the ladies, and there was no possibility of communicating in time with either Clive or Coote. Then it suddenly occurred to him that pursuit of Diggle might well come within his duty. Diggle was in the service of the Nawab; it was possible that he was even leading an advance guard of Law's Frenchmen.

"Were there any other Europeans besides the risaldar among the horsemen?" he asked.

"Two, sahib, and they were French. I suspect they were from the force of Law Sahib; he was, I know, at Patna a few days ago."

Desmond hesitated no longer. His affection for Mr. Merriman prompted an attempt to save the ladies: his mission from Clive was to discover the movements of the French. If he set off on Diggle's track he might succeed in both. It was a risky adventure--to pursue fifty men under such a leader as Diggle, with only a score. But twice before he had tried conclusions with Diggle and come off best: why should fortune fail him the third time?

Hurriedly explaining the situation to Mr. Toley and Bulger, he hastened with his men down to the river. There was no boat at the village ghat. He looked anxiously up and down. On the opposite side he saw a long river-boat moored in a narrow backwater. He could only get it by swimming, and here the current ran so swiftly that to swim would be dangerous. Yet, on the spur of the moment, he was preparing to take to the water himself when one of his men, a slim and active sepoy, volunteered to go.

"Good! I will give you ten rupees if you bring the boat across. You are a good swimmer?"

"The sahib will see," replied the man, with a salaam and a smile.