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Updated: May 31, 2025
Diggle had quietly strolled down to the gun next to Bulger's. It had just been reloaded. He bade the gun captain, in a low tone, to move aside. Then, with a glance to see that the priming was in order, he took careful sight, and waiting until the grab's main, mizzen and foremasts opened to view altogether, he applied the match.
They was Englishmen, leastways white men, and I may be wrong, but I bet my boots one on 'em was that there soft-speakin' villain Diggle." "Diggle!" exclaimed Desmond, springing up. "You must be mistaken, Bulger." "I may be wrong, sir, but I never remembers any time when I was." "What house did he go into?" "That I can't tell you, sir, not bein' sure o' my bearin's." "But you could point it out?"
Bourchier, the genial merchant carried him off to the house on the Green where he was staying and insisted on having a full account of his experiences. When he learned that Diggle had been captured and would shortly reach Bombay as a prisoner, his jolly face assumed as intense a look of vindictive satisfaction as it was capable of expressing. "By thunder! that's the best of your news for me.
But when he seemed almost at the end of his strength, fortune suddenly befriended him. Bulger, with his clubbed musket and terrible iron hook, had disposed of the two men who leaped with Diggle into the compound; but there were others behind them; three men dropped to the ground close by, and, making a simultaneous rush, bore Bulger back against Desmond, hampering his sword arm.
It required very little at any time to put Captain Barker into a rage, and his demeanor was watched now with different feelings by different members of the crew. Diggle alone appeared unconcerned; he was smiling as he lolled against the mast. "They'll fire at me, will they?" growled the captain with a curse. "And chase me, will they? By jimmy, they shall sink me before I surrender!"
His uneasiness was hardly allayed when he saw that Angria was in company with Diggle. Both were squatting on the carpeted dais; no other person was in the room. Having ushered him in, the peon withdrew, and Desmond was alone with the two men he had most cause to fear. Diggle was smiling, Angria's eyes were gleaming, his mobile lips working as with impatience, if not anxiety.
It was always late in the evening, always in quiet places, and Diggle was always alone. Apparently he desired to make no acquaintances.
The crew's hesitation was but momentary; under Toley's sad gaze they sullenly flung down their weapons and went forward. Only then did the captain find speech. But it was to utter a fearful curse, ending with the name: "Diggle." Leaving Mr. Toley to bring the Good Intent up to Calcutta, Desmond hurried back in advance and remained in the town just long enough to inform Mr.
"'Twas that there Diggle as was the why and wherefore o' this little ornament, sir, and 'twas only right he should be paid for what he done. We fell down, him and me; I was under. He hoisted himself on his hands to get free, and I lifted my hook, sir, and caught him a blow under the chin.
Desmond saw that if his barricade was once broken through the issue of the fight must be decided by mere weight of numbers. "Bulger, here!" he cried, "and you, Hossain." The men sprang to him, and, following his example, leaped on to the cart next to that occupied by Diggle and Parmiter. Desmond's intention was to take them in flank.
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