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"Then be quick about it: we're going to trip the anchor, melons or no melons. D'ye hear?" Hossain ran down the sail and clambered up the chains; which the other boatmen made fast to a rope thrown from the deck. Desmond also lowered his sail, steering so as to approach the port quarter of the Good Intent, the serang's boat being on the starboard.
The governor and his guests were by this time seated, and instantly all eyes were focused on Desmond, and exclamations of astonishment broke from their lips. "Indeed! Bring chairs, Hossain." One of the native attendants left the room noiselessly, and returning with chairs placed them at the table. "Sit down, gentlemen. This is amazing news, as you say, Mr. Johnson. Perhaps Mr.
Bid the mistri come aboard at once." Hubbo sent a long hail over the water. The serang cast off the rope by which he had made fast to the sloop, and the petala came slowly down until it was abreast of the subahdar's vessel. Hossain, Desmond, and Karim stepped aboard, the last carrying a small box of tools. Only the Bengali was left in the boat. All salaamed low to the subahdar.
It contained three words and an initial: Tomorrow about ten. A change had been made in the composition of Hossain's crew since the incident at Sinfray's house. One day Desmond had found one of the Bengalis rummaging in the corner of the cabin where he was accustomed to keep his few personal belongings. Hossain had dismissed the man on the spot.
The Imperial army was now commanded by Kamgar Khan; for Mohammad Kuli had returned to Allahabad, and been murdered by his unscrupulous cousin Shujaa, who seized upon the province and fort. The Emperor, as is evident from his retreating southward, still hoped to raise the country in his favour, and his hopes were so far justified that he was joined by another Moghul officer, named Khadim Hossain.
He felt that the major was well disposed and would probably jump at any reasonable scheme that was put before him. After a period of quiet reflection he sought out Hossain, the serang, and had a long talk with him. At the conclusion of the interview he went to see Mr. Merriman.
Hossain was placidly smoking his hubblebubble; from the far bank of the Hugli came the mingled sounds of tom toms and other instruments; near the boat all was quiet, the wavelets of the stream lapping idly against the sides, the stillness broken only by the occasional howl of a jackal prowling near the bank in quest of the corpses of pious Hindus consigned to the sacred waters of the Ganges.
Desmond thanked Hossain for the information, and, leaving his breakfast unfinished, went off at once to see Clive, whom he was to join that morning on a tour of inspection of the northwest part of the French settlement. "Well, I don't see what we can do," said Clive, when Desmond repeated the news to him. "Mr. Watson no doubt suspected her when it was too late.
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.
When it was finished the lascar went over it line by line, comparing it with the paper at his left hand. Then he folded it very small, sealed it with a wafer, and, returning to the serang, said a few words. Whereupon Hossain made a trumpet of his hands, and, looking toward the left bank, sounded a few notes in imitation of a bird's warble. The shore was fringed here with low bushes.
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