Chapter 30: In which Coja Solomon reappears: and gives our hero valuableinformation.
Before Major Coote reached Daudpur he was overtaken by a horseman bearinga 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 troubleyet if he can join hands with Law and his Frenchmen. I am to send youahead to reconnoiter. You've been to Murshidabad, I think?"
"No, only to Cossimbazar, but that is not far off."
"Well, you know the best part of the road, at any rate. The colonel wantsyou to go with a small party to Murshidabad and find out whether theFrenchmen have come within reach. You'll have to go on foot: take careyou don't get into trouble. Pick your own men, of course. You must have arest first."
"Two or three hours will be enough for me. If we start soon we shallreach Murshidabad before dawn, and with little risk. I'm to come back andreport, sir?"
"Of course. No doubt you will meet us on the way."
On reaching Daudpur Desmond selected twenty Sepoys who knew the countryand ordered them to be ready to start with him at midnight. Bulger andMr. Toley he had already informed of his mission, and he found them morethan 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 groveof palmyras, and at dawn sent forward one of the Sepoys, disguised as aryot, to make inquiries as to what was happening in the town.
It was near midday when the man returned. He reported that the Nawab hadgone to his palace, while the chiefs who had accompanied or followed himfrom the field of battle had shown their recognition that his cause waslost by deserting him and going to their own houses. He had heard nothingof the French. The Nawab, in order to ingratiate himself with the people,had thrown open his treasury, from which all and sundry were carrying offwhat they pleased. The city was in such a disturbed state that it wouldbe exceedingly unsafe for any stranger to enter.
Desmond decided to remain where he was until nightfall, and then to skirtthe city and move northwards in the hope of learning something definiteof the movements of the French. Meanwhile he sent the man back to learnif anything happened during the day.
In the evening the man returned again. This time he reported that MirJafar had arrived with a large force and taken possession of the Nawab'spalace of Mansurganj. Immediately after the traitor's arrivalSirajuddaula had collected all the gold and jewels on which he could layhands and fled with his women. Suspecting that the luckless Nawab wasmaking for Rajmahal in the hope of meeting Law there, Desmond made up hismind to follow. He struck his camp, marched all night, and soon afterdaybreak 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 smokefrom some straw that had been kindled, and a man tied by his thumbs to astaple in the wall. He recognized the man in a moment. It was CojaSolomon, Mr. Merriman's rascally agent of Cossimbazar. He was half deadwith pain and fright. Desmond cut him loose and hurried him out of thestifling room into the open, where Bulger revived him with copious dousesof water until he was sufficiently recovered to explain his unhappyplight.
"God be praised!" exclaimed the Armenian fervently. "You were in time,sir. I was seeking safety. The Faujdar of Murshidabad villainouslyill-used me. He owes me much, but there is no gratitude in him. I sawthat neither my life nor my goods were safe, so I packed up whatvaluables 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 bandof some fifty horsemen approaching from the other end, and fearing that Imight be set upon and plundered I hastily concealed my goods at the edgeof the tank hard by. Alas! it availed me nothing. My servants weredispersed, and the risaldar of the horsemen, a European, seized me andthrust me into this house, abandoned like all the rest, for the peoplefled before his approach, fearing he would burn and destroy. Then I wastied up as you saw, until I confessed where my valuables were hidden; oneof my servants must have betrayed me. The risaldar promised to release meas soon as I should confess: but instead of that he set fire to the strawout of pure villainy, for what could I do to him? I have been a goodfriend to the English. Sir, pursue that man: he must be a Frenchman. Iwill 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 theuse of pursuing fifty on horseback? Your friendship for the British hascome, I fear, a little too late."
The Armenian wrung his hands in despair, whining that he was a ruinedman. Then his tone changed; was there not still a chance? He explainedthat, a few hours before his capture, he had met a man who had recognizedhim as the agent for Mr. Merriman. The man said that he was a servant ofSurendra Nath Chuckerbutti and was on his way to meet Clive Sahib,carrying a letter to him from his master. But he was worn out, havingcome on foot a day and a night without rest. Coja Solomon unblushinglyconfessed that, while the man slept at midday, he had taken the letterfrom 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 Malda, a village on the other side of theriver, and the writer, Surendra Nath, informed Mr. Clive that the wifeand daughter of Mr. Merriman were in his house there, and asked him tosend a party to bring them away. Naturally, sir, I was pleased to find--"
"Go on with your story," cried Desmond impatiently, all excitement atcoming upon the track of the ladies at last.
"It was while I was reading the letter that the horsemen came up. Therisaldar 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 Iheard him say to his followers, he has gone to Malda, with a design totake these ladies."
"Stay, Khwaja, what was he like?"
"He was a tall man, with scars on his face, and on his right hand he worea 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 tothe village--it is three coss on the other side of the river--you maycapture him, sir, as well as regain my property, a third of which isyours."
"But how--how, man?" cried Desmond impatiently. "How can we overtake himon foot?"
"He will have to ride near to Rajmahal to find a ford, sir. He will crossthere, and ride back down the river some five coss before he comes toMalda."
"But could he not swim the river?"
"He could, sir, but it is a feat he is not likely to attempt, seeing thatthere is no need for haste. I implore you, sir, start at once. OtherwiseI am a ruined man; my old age will be spent in poverty and distress."
"If he can not cross, how can I?" said Desmond.
"There is sure to be a boat on the bank, sir, unless they have all beenseized by the Nawab, who, rumor says, is coming from Bhagwangola by riverto Rajmahal."
Desmond felt uneasy and perplexed. He doubted whether his duty to Clivedid not forbid him to go in search of the ladies, and there was nopossibility of communicating in time with either Clive or Coote. Then itsuddenly occurred to him that pursuit of Diggle might well come withinhis duty. Diggle was in the service of the Nawab; it was possible that hewas 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 ofLaw, sahib; he was, I know, at Patna a few days ago."
Desmond hesitated no longer. His affection for Mr. Merriman prompted anattempt to save the ladies: his mission from Clive was to discover themovements of the French. If he set off on Diggle's track he might succ
eedin both. It was a risky adventure--to pursue fifty men under such aleader as Diggle, with only a score. But twice before he had triedconclusions with Diggle and come off best: why should fortune fail himagain?
Hurriedly explaining the situation to Mr. Toley and Bulger, he hastenedwith his men down to the river. There was no boat at the village ghat. Helooked anxiously up and down. On the opposite side he saw a longriverboat 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. Yeton the spur of the moment he was preparing to take to the water himselfwhen 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 agood swimmer?"
"The sahib will see," replied the man, with a salaam and a smile.
He took a kedgeree pot, an earthen vessel used for cooking, and firmlytied to it a stout bamboo some six feet long, so that the thicker end ofthe pole was even with the mouth of the vessel. The boat was slightlydown the stream. The man ran a little way upstream to a point where aspit of land jutted out into the river, his companions following quicklywith the pot. This they placed mouth downwards in the water. Then theSepoy mounted on top, launched himself on this novel buoy, and, holdingon to the pole, floated breast high in the water down with the current,dexterously steering himself with his legs to the point where the boatwas moored. Soon he reached the spot. He clambered into the boat and withrapid movements of the stern oar brought it to the other side, viewingwith beaming face the promised reward.
While this was going on the sky had been darkening. A northwester wascoming up, and after his experience on the eve of Plassey, Desmond knewwhat that meant. He hastily embarked his men, and the boat started: butit had scarcely covered a third of the distance across the river when thewind struck it. Fortunately the sail was not up: as it was, theflat-bottomed boat was nearly swamped. Drenching rain began to fall. Theriver was lashed to fury: for three crowded minutes it seemed to Desmonda miracle that the boat was still afloat. The waves dashed over itssides; the men, blinded by the rain, were too much cowed to attempt tobail out.
Desmond was at the helm; Bulger and Toley had an oar each; although onlya few yards distant, Desmond could scarcely see them through the peltingrain. Then the wind moderated somewhat: he peremptorily ordered the mento use their brass lotis {drinking vessel} to bale out the boat, anddetermined to turn the storm to account.
With great difficulty he got the sail hoisted; and then the vessel randown the river at racing speed. The distance to Malda, as the Armenianhad told him, was six miles--four by river, two by land. By Diggle'sroute it was ten miles. The horsemen had had such a start of him that hefeared he could not overtake them in time. Still, the storm that nowhelped him would hinder them. If he survived the perils of the riverpassage he might even yet succeed.
He was alive to the risks he ran. More than once, as the wind changed apoint, it seemed that the cranky craft must turn turtle. But she escapedagain and again, plunging on her headlong course. The Sepoys were sturdyenough fellows, but being unused to the water they cowered in the bottomof the boat, except when Desmond's stern command set them franticallybailing.
Almost before it seemed possible they came in sight of a bend in theriver which one of the men, who knew the district, had described toDesmond as the nearest point to the village he sought. So rapid had thepassage been that Desmond felt that, if they could only land in safety,they might have gained considerably on Diggle's horsemen. The latter musthave felt the full effect of the gale: it was likely that they had takenshelter for a time. Desmond and his men were wet to the skin, but,profiting by the recollection of what had happened at Plassey, they hadkept their ammunition dry.
At the bend the river presented a shelving beach, being at least twice aswide at this point during the rainy season as at other periods. Withouthesitation Desmond ran the nose of the boat straight at the beach: shecame to with a violent bump; the men tumbled out waist deep into thewater, and with shrill cries of relief scrambled ashore.
No time was lost. Waiting only to inspect their muskets, Desmond at oncebegan the march, the band being led by the man who knew the country.Another man, a noted runner, formerly a kasid in the employment of theNawab of the Deccan, was sent in advance to find Surendra Nath's house,give him warning of Desmond's coming, and instruct him to have someone onthe lookout for the approach of the enemy, if Diggle were not, indeed,already in possession of the village. The rest pushed on with all speed.The storm had cleared the air: the rain had ceased, and though it wasunpleasant walking over the soppy ground, the march was much cooler thanit would otherwise have been.
Desmond longed for a hill from which to get a view of the country. But,as almost everywhere in the valley of the Ganges, it was dead flat. Theparty was within a quarter of a mile of the village when the kasid camerunning back. He had found the Babu's house. From its flat roof a body ofhorse had been seen in the distance, nearly a coss away. Desmond at onceordered his men to double, and as they dashed into the village among thewondering people, the kasid pointed out Surendra Nath's house at the farend--a small two-storied building, surrounded by a wall and approachedthrough a rickety iron gateway. It was the first house to which theapproaching horsemen would come.
A man in native dress was standing at the gate. At first Desmond did notrecognize him, but as he drew nearer he saw that it was Surendra Nathhimself, looking years older--weak, thin, sunken-eyed, little like thesleek, well-fed Babu Desmond had last seen in Calcutta.
"Are the ladies safe?" asked Desmond, yards ahead of his men.
"Yes, sir, quite safe," replied Surendra Nath, trembling.
"Thank God for that! Go in, Babu: tell them we are here to protect them."
While speaking he had eagerly scanned the surroundings. On each side ofthe sodden track that did duty for a road there was a mango grove.Desmond directed Toley to take four men to one side, and Bulger four mento the other, and place themselves among the trees. When the first threefiles of the horsemen should have passed through, the seamen were to givethe word to fire; then, taking advantage of the inevitable confusion, torush with their men to the house. Desmond himself meanwhile, with theremaining twelve, set to work to strengthen the defenses. Theseproceedings were watched with amazement by the villagers, who, men,women, and children, stood in groups, discussing in shrill tones themovements of these energetic strangers.
There was a small veranda to the house. This was wrenched away by mainforce. The posts and other parts of the woodwork were carried to thegateway and piled up as rapidly as possible to form a rough barricade.Scarcely was this task half accomplished when the clanking of weapons washeard in the distance, soon accompanied by the swashing of horses' hoofson the drenched soil.
Desmond coolly ordered his men to proceed with the work. A minute laterthere was a sharp discharge of musketry, followed by cries, shouts, andthe sound of galloping horses. The villagers scuttled away shrieking.Immediately afterward Bulger and Toley with their eight men sprang fromcover and made a dash for the wall.
"Muskets first!" shouted Desmond.
The muskets were pitched over: then the men scrambled up, Desmond and hisSepoys assisting them to get across. Almost the first to drop down intothe compound was Bulger, whose hook had proved, not for the first time,of more service than a sound left arm. Once over himself, he used hishook to haul the Sepoys after him, with many a vigorous "Yo, heave ho!"
"All aboard, sir," he cried, when the last of the men was within thewall. "I may be wrong, but I lay my button hook 'tis now all hands torepel boarders; and only two cutlasses among us--mine and Mr. Toley's.What ho, mateys! who cares--"
Desmond ordered four of his men to post themselves at the barricadedgateway: the rest he divided into two parties, and stationed behind thewall at each side. The wall was six feet high--too high to fire over; butas it was in a somewhat dilapidated condition there was no difficulty inknocking away several loose bricks at
intervals, so as to make a roughand ready battlement. Desmond instructed the men to fire alternatelythrough the embrasures thus made. As soon as one had fired he was to fallback and reload as fast as possible while another man took his place. Bythis device, Desmond hoped to deceive the enemy for a time as to thenumber of the defenders in the compound.
But it was not to be expected that the enemy could long be kept out, andin the last resort it would be necessary to retreat to the house. In viewof the presence of the ladies this was a step to be avoided if possible.It might indeed be the wiser course to surrender, for their sakes. As thethought struck Desmond he called to the Babu, who was keeping watch onthe roof.
"Babu," he said, "ask the ladies to occupy the least exposed room. Tellthem that if the enemy get over the wall I will try to make anarrangement with them, rather than provoke an attack on the house."
The Babu disappeared. But a few moments later Phyllis Merriman, wearingthe costume of a native lady, came running out.
"Mother bids me say, Mr. Burke," she said, "on no account let suchconsiderations weigh with you. She says, fight to the last. We will riskanything rather than go back to captivity. You will beat them, Mr. Burke,won't you?"
"I shall do my best, Miss Merriman," replied Desmond. "But pray go back:they may be here at any moment. I need not say how glad I am to find youwell. Pray tell Mrs. Merriman that we shall all do our best for her andyou."
"I know you will. And my father?"
"He is distressed, of course, but clings to hope. Do, Miss Merriman,retire at once. I see the enemy coming from the grove."
"Phyllis! Phyllis!" cried Mrs. Merriman from the house; "come in at once!
"Mr. Burke, send her in. Have no mercy on the wretches, I implore you."
The girl walked back reluctantly. Unknown to Desmond, she went no fartherthan the doorway, where, just hidden from sight, she watched all thatfollowed.
The enemy had clearly been nonplussed by their sudden check. There wereno British troops, as far as they knew, for many miles round, andconcerted resistance from the natives was unlikely. But they were nowemerging from the mango grove, a hundred yards away. They came on foot,leaving their horses out of musket range.
Desmond's heart sank as he counted them. There were even more than he hadsupposed. They numbered fifty-four and several had no doubt been left incharge of the horses. Still, he felt that he had two advantages. Thefirst was his position behind the wall; the second, the fact that theenemy, unless they had obtained information from the villagers, could notknow what force they had to deal with. Their ignorance, of course, mustbe only temporary: if one of them should succeed in mounting the wall theweakness of the defense must immediately be seen.
As the enemy, tall men in the costume of native cavalry, assembled bytwos and threes at the edge of the grove, Desmond noticed three Europeansleave the main body and advance some way into the open. It was with aflush of indignation and a fierce resolve to bring him at last to bookthat Desmond recognized one of them as Diggle. With his companions hewalked at a safe distance completely round the building.
For some time they halted at the back, carefully scanning the position.Here the wall approached the house much more closely than in the front,and no one could mount it without being fully exposed to fire from theupper windows. After his examination, Diggle returned with the two men,whom from their appearance Desmond judged to be Frenchmen, to the mainbody, and sent off half a dozen men toward the other end of the village.While they were gone one of the Frenchmen seemed to Desmond to beexpostulating with Diggle: but the latter only laughed and waved hisgloved hand in the direction of the house.
The messengers soon returned, dragging with them three of the villagers.These Diggle took aside separately and questioned: it was clear toDesmond that he was ascertaining the strength of the garrison. Apparentlysatisfied, he divided his force into three parts; the largest, consistingof some forty men, remained at the edge of the grove; the two smallerproceeded to the right and left of the back of the house. One was incommand of a Frenchman, but the Frenchman who had expostulated withDiggle had apparently refused to have anything to do with the affair: heheld himself aloof, and by and by disappeared into the grove.
Diggle's evident intention was to weaken the garrison by forcing Desmondto divide his already too small force. He had to detach eight of hismen--three to the windows and five to the wall--leaving only fourteen,including Bulger and Toley, to meet the rush in front.
It was not long in coming. Diggle did not wait to parley. Taking a musketfrom one of his men he raised it to his shoulder and fired at a Sepoy,whose head just showed above the gate. The man raised his hand to hisbrow and fell back with a sharp cry--a bullet had plowed a furrow throughhis scalp. Desmond checked his men as they were about to fire in reply:but when, in the rush that followed, the enemy came within thirty yards,he gave the word, and seven muskets flashed forth across the barricade.
The attacking party were coming forward in close order, and five of themen fell. But the rest sprang forward with shrill yells, Diggle, who wasuntouched, urging them on. Even the fire of Desmond's second rank failedto check them. Two or three dropped; others were soon swarming up thewall; and though the defenders with clubbed muskets struck savagely attheir heads and hands as they appeared above the coping, if one drewback, another took his place: and the wall was so long that at severalpoints there were gaps between Desmond's Sepoys where the enemy couldmount unmolested.
Desmond, having discharged his two pistols, disposing of one of theassailants with each shot, was in the act of reloading when Diggle leapedinto the compound, followed by two of his men. Shouting to Bulger,Desmond threw the pistols and rammer on the ground behind him, and,drawing his sword, dashed at the three intruders, who were slightlywinded by the charge and their exertions in scaling the wall.
Desmond could never afterward remember the details of the crowded momentsthat followed. There were cries all around him: behind, the stridentvoice of Mr. Toley was cheering his men to repel the assault at the backof the house: at his side Bulger was bellowing like a bull of Bashan. Butall this was confused noise to him, for his attention was wholly occupiedwith his old enemy. His first lunge at Diggle was neatly parried, and thetwo, oblivious of all that was happening around them, looked full intoeach other's eyes, read grim determination there, and fought with a coldfury that meant death to the first that gave an opening to his opponent'ssword.
If motive counted, if the right cause could always win, the issueadmitted of no doubt. Desmond had a heavy score to pay off. From the timewhen he had met Diggle in the street at Market Drayton to his lastencounter with him at the Battle of the Carts, he had been the mark ofhis enmity, malice, spite, trickery. But Desmond thought less of his ownwrongs than of the sorrow of his friend, Mr. Merriman, and the harrowingwretchedness which must have been the lot of the ladies while they werein Diggle's power. The man had brought misery into so many lives that itwould be a good deed if, in the fortune of war, Desmond's sword could ridthe world of him.
And Diggle, on his side, was nerved by the power of hate. Baseless aswere his suspicions of Desmond's friendship with Sir Willoughby Stokes,he felt that this boy was an obstacle. Ever since their paths had crossedhe had been conscious that he had to do with a finer, nobler nature thanhis own: and Desmond's courage and skill had already frustrated him. Ashe faced him now, it was with the feeling that, if this boy were killed,a bar would be removed from his career.
Thus, on either side, it was war to the death. What Desmond lacked inskill and experience he made up for by youth and strength. The twocombatants were thus equally matched: a grain in the scale might decidethe issue. But the longer the fight lasted the better were Desmond'schances. He had youth in his favor. He had led a hard life: his muscleswere like iron. The older man by and by began to flag: more than once hisguard was nearly beaten down: nothing but his great skill inswordsmanship, and the coolness that never deserted him, saved him fromthe sharp edge of Desmond's bl
ade.
But when he seemed almost at the end of his strength, fortune suddenlybefriended him. Bulger, with his clubbed musket and terrible iron hook,had disposed of the two men who leaped with Diggle into the compound; butthere 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.
One of Desmond's Sepoys sprang to the rescue, but he was too late to stemthe tide. A blow from a musket stock disabled Bulger's right arm; he losthis footing; as he fell, his hook, still active, caught Diggle's leg andbrought him to the ground, just as, taking advantage of the diversion, hewas making exultantly what he intended for a final lunge at Desmond. Hefell headlong, rolling over Bulger, who was already on the ground.
How the end came Desmond did not clearly see. He knew that he was besetby three of Diggle's men, and, falling back before them, he heard thevoice of Phyllis Merriman close by, and felt his pistols thrust into hishands. She had slipped out of the doorway, picked up the weapons as theylay where Desmond had flung them, completed the loading, and advancedfearlessly into the thick of the fray. At one and the same moment Desmondfired upon his enemies and implored the brave girl to go back.
Then suddenly there was a lull in the uproar. Bulger was upon his feet.Diggle's men paused to gaze at their prostrate leader. Then every man ofthem was scrambling pell mell over the wall, yelling as the stocks of theSepoys' muskets sped them on their flight.
"What is it?" asked Desmond.
Bulger pointed to Diggle, among the fallen.
"He've gone to his account, sir, which I may be wrong, but the Almightyhave got a long black score agen him."
"How did it happen?"
Bulger lifted his hook.
"'Twas that there Diggle as was the why and wherefore o' this littleornament, 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 toget free, and I lifted my hook, sir, and caught him a blow under thechin. If it didn't break his neck, sir, my name en't Bill Bulger, whichI'm sorry for his poor wicked soul all the same."
Phyllis had her hands clasped about Desmond's arm.
"Is he dead?" she asked in a voice of awe.
"Come away," said Desmond quietly, leading her toward the house. "Let usfind your mother."
In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India Page 32
