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Updated: September 11, 2025
As soon as a hawser could be bent the grab was taken in tow: its crew was impressed with the other prisoners as rowers, under the charge of the Biluchis; and with Desmond at the helm of the grab and the Gujarati steering the gallivat, the two vessels crept slowly seawards.
But finding that the man grasping him had a determined purpose, he became furious with alarm, and plucking a knife from his girdle struck viciously at the form above him. Desmond, with his back to the light, saw the blow coming. He caught the man's wrist, and in another moment the Gujarati came to his assistance. Thus the last of the watchmen was secured and laid beside his comrades.
In the open the Gujarati could exert his strength more freely than through the narrow windows of the shed. Almost before Desmond reached his side the sentinel was dead. In that desperate situation there was no time to expostulate.
Meanwhile the crew had looked on for a few breathless moments in amazement at this sudden turn of affairs. But as the Gujarati fell Desmond heard a noise behind him. Half turning, he saw Shaik Abdullah rushing towards him with a marlinspike.
When a battle is to be fought, no soldier fights only for himself, doing that which seems good to him alone. He looks to the captain for orders. Otherwise mistakes would be made, and all effort would be wasted. We must have a captain: who is he to be?" "Yourself, sahib," said the Gujarati at once. "You have spoken; you have the plan; we take you as leader." "You hear what Fuzl Khan says.
On the whole he thought it best to keep the largest possible offing that would still leave the coast within sight. Meanwhile the Gujarati and some of the others had breakfasted from their bundles. Leaving the former in charge of the wheel, Desmond took his well-earned meal of rice and chapatis, stale, but sweet with the sweetness of freedom.
There was a cry from each man, and the red light falling upon the face of the assailant, Desmond saw with amazement that it was the Gujarati, whom he had supposed to be rowing along the shore to meet him. He had hardly recognized the man before he saw that he was at deadly grips with the overseer, both snarling like wild beasts.
Fuzl Khan had not returned; Desmond almost feared that some mishap had befallen the man. Reaching the center vessel, he peered down the hatchway, but started back as a gust of acrid smoke struck him from below. He called to the Gujarati. There was no response. For an instant he stood in hesitation; had the man been overcome by the suffocating fumes filling the hold?
By this time Desmond had turned the lantern full upon the scene. Coming to the man's head, while the Gujarati still held him by the throat, he said, in low, rapid, but determined tones: "Obey, and your life will be spared. But if you attempt to raise an alarm you will be lost. Answer my questions. Where is there some loose rope on board?"
A friendly coil of rope near the taffrail gave him additional cover; but the night was so dark that he ran little risk of being perceived so long as the men remained stationary. He himself could barely see the tall form of the Gujarati dimly outlined against the sky. Crouching low, Desmond waited. When the Maratha joined the groups Fuzl Khan addressed him directly in a low firm tone.
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