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Updated: June 10, 2025
Gheria was many miles from the nearest European settlement where he might find refuge. A half-felt hope that he might be able to reach Suwarndrug, lately captured by Commodore James, was dashed by the news that that fort had been handed over by him to the Marathas.
Johnson searched through a miscellaneous hoard of clothes in one of his capacious presses for an outfit. He found garments that proved a reasonable fit, and Desmond, while dressing, gave a rapid sketch of his adventures since he left the prison shed in Gheria. "My wigs, but you've had a time of it. Mutiny and all! Dash my buttons, here's a tale for the ladies! Let me look at you.
"I should have liked of all things to accept your offer, but I'm bound to stay for Diggle's trial, and that can't be held until the fleet return." "How long will that be?" "I heard the admiral say he expected it would take a month to settle everything at Gheria.
The deafening roar of the guns, the huge columns of smoke that floated heavily over the fort, and sometimes enveloped the vessels, the bray of trumpets, the beating of tom toms, the shouts of men, set his blood tingling: and though he afterwards witnessed other stirring scenes, he never forgot the vivid impression of the fight at Gheria.
He was short and stout, with a very large red face, a broad turn-up nose, and childlike blue eyes that bespoke confidence at once. "My name is Desmond Burke, sir, and I've run away from Gheria in this grab." "The deuce you have!" "Yes, sir. I've been a prisoner there for six months and more, and we got off a few nights ago in the darkness." "H'm! Any more Irishmen aboard?"
He had closely studied the chart on board the Good Intent when that vessel was approaching the Indian coast not with any fixed purpose, but in the curiosity which invested all things Indian with interest for him. From his recollection he believed that Gheria was somewhat more than a hundred miles from Bombay.
I've got ships of my own, and I dare say I could find a berth for you on one of them. You seem to know something of navigation?" "Very little, sir; just what I picked up on the Good Intent." "Well, that's a beginning. I've no doubt that Admiral Watson will wish you to go to Gheria with him: your knowledge of the place will be useful.
The experiences of the past year had quickened Desmond's wits; with reason he had become more suspicious than of yore, and the necessity to be constantly on his guard had made him alert, alive to the least suggestion. Why had the speaker been hushed and by Fuzl Khan? He remembered the ugly rumors the veiled hints he had heard about the man in Gheria.
Hungry as he was, however, Desmond would not eat while he was, so to speak, still in touch with Gheria. He ran up the sail on the mizzen, and the grab was soon cutting her way through the water at a spanking rate.
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