In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India

by Herbert Strang

  Chapter 25: In which our hero embarks on a hazardous mission; and MonsieurSinfray's khansaman makes a confession.

  On arriving at Fulta, Desmond found that the European fugitives fromCalcutta were living for the most part on board the country ships in theriver, while the military were cantoned in huts ashore, on a plaineastward of the town. The avenues leading to their camp were occupied bySepoys. Desmond lost no time in making his way to Major Killpatrick's hutand presenting his credentials.

  "Very glad to make your acquaintance," said the major heartily. "Oh yes,I know all about you. Mr. Merriman has told me of the way you brought hiscargo through from Cossimbazar, and the plucky stand you made againstodds. By Jove, sir, 'twas an amazing good piece of work. You deserved acommission if any youngster ever did, and I'm glad Mr. Clive has done theright thing. Let me tell you, Mr. Clive don't make mistakes--in militarymatters, that is to say. And Gheria, now: egad, sir, you must have a headon your shoulders; and that en't flattery; we soldiers en't in the habitof laying on the butter.

  "You did well; and sure you'll be of the greatest use to us here. We needa few men as are able to keep their heads in a warm place: and, begad, ifthey'd such men in Bengal these last months we wouldn't be rotting herein this fever-haunted place. Why, I've lost thirty-two officers and menin less than a couple of months, and I'll be lucky if I've fifty fit forservice by the time Mr. Clive arrives. When may we expect him, sir?"

  "He couldn't tell me, sir. The Madras Council can't make up their mindswho is to command the expedition, and they're waiting for ships fromhome."

  Major Killpatrick laughed.

  "Why, I know how that will end. With Mr. Stringer Lawrence laid up thereis only one man fit to do this job, and that's Mr. Clive, and the soonerthe gentlemen on their office stools at Madras see that, the better inthe end for everybody.

  "Now you're strong again, eh? Got rid of that touch of fever?"

  "Yes, sir; I'm as well as ever."

  "And want to be doing something, I'll be bound. Well, 'twill need somethinking, what you've to do. We're badly served with news. We've gotspies, of course; but I don't set much store by native spies in thiscountry. We've information by the bushel, but when you come to sift itout there's precious little of it you can trust. And the enemy has gotspies, too--hundreds of 'em. I'll bet my boots there's a regular systemof kasids for carrying news of us to Manik Chand and from him to theNawab. If the truth was known, I dare say that rascal knows how manyhairs I have on my bald crown under my wig--if that's any interest tohim.

  "Well, I suppose you'll join Mr. Merriman on board one of the ships.Better chance of escaping the fever there. I'll turn over a thing or twoI have in my mind and send for you when I've done turning."

  On the way back to the shore Desmond met the serang who had accompaniedhim down the river from Cossimbazar. The man explained that after thecapture of Calcutta his brother Hubbo, the Company's syr serang {headboatman}, had been impressed into the service of the Nawab, and hehimself had been sent by Hubbo to Fulta to assist the Council andmerchants of the Company. He had there met Mr. Merriman, whom in commonwith many others he had believed to be dead. Mr. Merriman, having noimmediate need for his services, had willingly permitted him to take hisbrother's place in the employment of the Company.

  Mr. Merriman welcomed Desmond with quite fatherly affection, andcongratulated him heartily on his appointment. The Hormuzzeer beingunlikely, owing to the complete cessation of trade, to make anothervoyage for some months to come, he decided to take up his quarters onboard, and Desmond lived with him as a matter of course.

  Desmond was shocked to see the change wrought on his friend by the lossof his wife and daughter. All his gay spirits had left him; he hadthinned perceptibly, and his eyes had that strained look which only agreat sorrow can cause.

  "I have been thinking it over, Desmond," he said as they sat in thecabin, "and I can only conclude that this is one more of Peloti'svillainies. Good God! had he not done me and mine harm enough? Who elsewould be so dead to all sense of right, of decency, as to seize upon twohelpless women? My brother was hanged, Desmond; hanging is too good forthat scoundrel; but we cannot touch him; he laughs at us; and I amhelpless--helpless!"

  "Like you, sir, I have come to believe that you owe this terrible sorrowto Diggle--I must always call him that. Don't give up heart, sir. Whathis motive is, if he has indeed captured the ladies, I cannot tell. Itmay be to use them as hostages in case he gets into trouble with us; itis impossible to see into the black depths of his mind. But I believe theladies are safe, and, please God, I shall learn something about them andmaybe bring them back to you."

  Desmond waited a couple of days in the hope of receiving a definite taskfrom Major Killpatrick. But that officer, while an excellent soldier, wasnot fertile in expedients. The process of "turning things over in hismind" did not furnish him with an inspiration.

  He came on board the Hormuzzeer one afternoon, and confessed that hedidn't see how Desmond could possibly get up and down the river. Mr.Merriman reminded him that in the early days of the stay at Fulta, Mr.Robert Gregory had gone up with requests to the French and Dutch forassistance. Under cover of a storm he passed Tanna and Calcutta unnoticedby the Nawab's men.

  "The French were very polite, but wouldn't move a finger for us," addedMr. Merriman. "The Dutch were more neighborly, and sent us someprovisions--badly needed, I assure you. Mr. Gregory is still with them atChinsura."

  "If he got through, why shouldn't I?" asked Desmond.

  "My dear boy," said Killpatrick, "the river is narrowly watched. TheMoors know that Gregory outwitted them; sure no other Englishman couldrepeat the trick. And if you were caught, there's no saying how ManikChand might serve you. He seems disposed to be friendly, to be sure: he'smade governor of Calcutta now, and wants to feel his feet. But he's aweak man, by all accounts; and weak men, when they are afraid, are alwayscruel. If he caught an Englishman spying out the land he'd most probablytreat him after oriental methods.

  "In fact, the situation between him and us is such," concluded the majorwith a laugh, "that he'd be quite justified in stringing you up."

  Major Killpatrick left without offering any suggestion. When he had goneDesmond spent an hour or two in "turning things over in his mind." Hefelt that the major was well disposed and would probably jump at anyreasonable scheme that was put before him.

  After a period of quiet reflection he sought out Hossain, the serang, andhad a long talk with him. At the conclusion of the interview he went tosee Mr. Merriman. He explained that Hossain wished to return to theservice of a former employer, a native grain merchant in Calcutta, whodid a large trade along the Hugli from the Sandarbands to Murshidabad.The consent of the Council was required, and Desmond wished Mr. Merrimanto arrange the matter without giving any explanation.

  The merchant was naturally anxious to know why Desmond interested himselfin the man, and what he learned drew from him an instant promise toobtain the Council's consent without delay. Then Desmond made his way toMajor Killpatrick's hut, and remained closeted with that genial officertill a late hour.

  Six weeks later a heavily-laden petala, with a dinghy trailing behind,was dropping down the river above Hugli. Its crew numbered four. One wasHossain, the serang, who had left Fulta with Desmond on the day after hisinterview with Major Killpatrick. Two were dark-skinned boatmen, Bengalissomewhat stupid in appearance. The fourth, who was steering, was ratherlighter in hue, as well as more alert and energetic in mien: a lascar, asHossain explained in answer to inquiries along the river. He had latelybeen employed on one of the Company's vessels, but it had been sunk inthe Hugli during the siege of Calcutta. He was a handy man in a boat, andvery glad to earn a few pice in this time of stagnant trade. Things werenot looking bright for boatmen on the Hugli; as only a few vessels hadleft the river from Chandernagore and Chinsura since the troubles beganthere was little or no opening for men of the shipwrecked crew.

  The petala made fast for the night near the ban
k, at a spot a littlebelow Hugli, between that place and Chinsura. When the two Bengalis hadeaten their evening rice, Hossain told them that they might, if theypleased, take the dinghy and attend a tamasha {entertainment} that wasbeing held in Chinsura that night in honor of the wedding of one of theDutch Company's principal gumashtas. The Bengalis, always ready for anentertainment of this kind, slipped overboard and were soon rowing downto Chinsura. Their orders were to be back immediately after the secondwatch of the night. Only the lascar and Hossain were left in the boat.

  Ten minutes after the men had disappeared from view, the serang lit asmall oil lamp in the tiny cabin. He then made his way to the helm,whispered a word in the lascar's ear, and took his place. The latternodded and went into the cabin. Drawing the curtains, he squatted on amattress, took from a hiding place in the cabin a few sheets of paper anda pencil, and, resting the paper on the back of a tray, began to write.

  As he did so he frequently consulted a scrap of paper he kept at his lefthand; it was closely covered with letters and figures, these latter notHindustani characters, but the Arabic figures employed by Europeans.

  The first line of what he wrote himself ran thus:

  29 19 28 19 36 38 32 20 21 39 23 34 19 29 29 35 32 38 24 38 23 32{constructed from the cipher actually used by Mr. Watts at Murshidabad}.

  The letter or message upon which he was engaged was not a lengthy one,but it took a long time to compose. When it was finished the lascar wentover it line by line, comparing it with the paper at his left hand. Thenhe folded it very small, sealed it with a wafer, and, returning to theserang, 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 abird's warble. The shore was fringed here with low bushes. As if inanswer to the call a small boat darted out from the shelter of a bush; afew strokes brought it alongside of the petala; and the serang, bendingover, handed the folded paper to the boatman, and whispered a few wordsin his ear. The man pushed off, and the lascar watched the boat floatsilently down the stream until it was lost to sight.

  Dawn was hardly breaking when Major Killpatrick, awakened by his servant,received from his hands a folded paper which by the aid of a candle hebegan to pore over, laboriously comparing it with a small code similar tothat used by the lascar. One by one he penciled on a scrap of papercertain letters, every now and then whistling between his teeth as hespelt out the words they made. The result appeared thus:

  Magazines for ammunition and stores of grain being prepared Tribeni andHugli. Bazaar rumor Nawab about to march with army to Calcutta. Ordersissued Hugli traffic to be strictly watched. Dutch phataks {gate orbarrier} closed. Forth unable leave Chinsura. Tanna Fort 9 guns; oppositeTanna 6 guns; Holwell's garden 5 guns; 4 each Surman's and Ganj; 2 eachMr. Watts' house, Seth's ghat, Maryas ghat, carpenter's yard.

  "Egad!" he exclaimed, on a second reading of the message, "the boy's aconjurer. This is important enough to send to Mr. Clive at once. But I'llmake a copy of it first in case of accident."

  Having made his copy and sealed the original and his first transcription,he summoned his servant and bade him send for the kasid. To him heintrusted the papers, directing him to convey them without loss of timeto Clive Sahib, whom he might expect to find at Kalpi.

  It was December thirteenth. Two months before, the fleet containingColonel Clive and the troops destined for the Bengal expedition hadsailed from Madras. The force consisted of two hundred and seventy-sixking's troops, six hundred and seventy-six of the Company's, about athousand Sepoys, and two hundred and sixty lascars. They were embarked onfive of the king's ships, with Admiral Watson in the Kent, and as manyCompany's vessels.

  Baffling winds, various mishaps, and the calms usual at this time of theyear had protracted the voyage, so seriously that the men had to be puton a two-thirds allowance of rations. Many of the European soldiers weredown with scurvy, many of the Sepoys actually died of starvation, havingconsumed all their rice, and refusing to touch the meat provided for theBritish soldiers, for fear of losing caste. When the admiral at lengtharrived at Fulta, he had only six of the ten ships with which he started,two that had parted company arriving some ten days later, and two beingforced to put back to Madras, under stress of weather.

  While the Kent lay at Kalpi Clive received the message sent him by MajorKillpatrick, and was visited by Mr. Drake and other members of theCouncil, from whom he heard of the sickness among the troops. On arrivingat Fulta he at once went on shore and visited the major.

  "Sorry to hear of your sad case, Mr. Killpatrick," he said. "We're verylittle better off. But we must make the best of it. I got your note.'Twas an excellent greeting. Young Burke is a capital fellow; I have notmistook his capacity."

  "Faith, 'twas what I told him, sir. I said Colonel Clive never mistookhis men."

  "Well, if that's true, what you said won't make him vain. Thisinformation is valuable: you see that. Have you heard anything more fromthe lad?"

  "Nothing, sir."

  "And you can't communicate with him?"

  "No, 'twas a part of his scheme never to let me know his whereabouts, incase the messages miscarried."

  "So; 'twas his scheme, not yours?"

  "Egad, sir, I've no head for that sort of thing," said Killpatrick with alaugh. "Give me a company, and a wall to scale or a regiment to charge,and--"

  "My dear fellow," interrupted Clive, "we all know the king has no betterofficer. Credit where credit is due, major, and you're not the man togrudge this youngster his full credit for an uncommonly daring and cleverscheme. Did you see him in his disguise?"

  "I did, sir, and at a distance he took in both Mr. Merriman and myself."

  "Well, he's a boy to keep an eye on, and I only hope that tigers ordacoits or the Nawab's Moors won't get hold of him; he's the kind of ladwe can't spare. Now, let me know the state of your troops."

  When he had sent off his note to Major Killpatrick, Desmond enjoyed ashort spell on deck preparatory to turning in. Hossain was placidlysmoking his hubblebubble; from the far bank of the Hugli came the mingledsounds of tom toms and other instruments; near the boat all was quiet,the wavelets of the stream lapping idly against the sides, the stillnessbroken only by the occasional howl of a jackal prowling near the bank inquest of the corpses of pious Hindus consigned to the sacred waters ofthe Ganges.

  Desmond was half dozing when he was startled into wakefulness by a suddenclamor from the native town. He heard shots, loud cries, the hideousblare of the Bengal trumpets. For half an hour the shouts continuedintermittently; then they gradually died away.

  Wondering whether the tamasha had ended in a tumult, Desmond was about toseek his couch, when, just beneath him, as it seemed, he heard a voice--afeeble cry for help. He sprang up and looked over the side. Soon a darkhead appeared on the water. With a cry to the serang to cast loose androw after him, Desmond took a header into the stream, and with a fewstrokes gained the drowning man's side.

  He was clearly exhausted. Supporting him with one arm, Desmond struck outwith the other, and being a strong swimmer he reached the stern of theboat even before the serang had slipped his moorings. With Hossain's aidhe lifted the man into the boat, and carried him to the cabin. He was allbut unconscious.

  A mouthful of arrack {fermented liquor made from rice or the juice of thepalm} from the serang's jar revived him. No sooner was he in command ofhis breath than he implored his rescuers for their help and protection.He had escaped, he said, from Hugli Fort, not without a gunshot woundbehind his shoulder. He spoke in Bengali. Seeing that he was too muchexhausted and agitated to tell his story that night, Desmond bade theserang assure him of his safety. Then they made shift to tend his wound,and, comforting him with food and drink, left him to sleep and recover.

  The two Bengalis who had been to Chinsura returned before they wereexpected. They had been alarmed by the uproar. As soon as they wereaboard Desmond decided to drop a mile or two farther down the river. Theboat coming to a ghat below Chandernagor
e, the serang ordered the men topull in, and tied up for the night.

  In the morning the Bengalis were despatched on some errand along thebank, and the coast being clear Desmond went with the serang to thewounded man to learn particulars of the escape. The Bengali had nowalmost wholly recovered, and was very voluble in his gratitude for hisrescue. Happening to glance towards the bank, he suddenly uttered anexclamation of fear, and begged the serang with frantic waving of thehands to leave the spot at once.

  "Why, O brother, this fear?" asked Hossain.

  "I will tell you. It is a great fear. Just before the coming of the rainsI was at Khulna. There I was hired by the head serang of a lady travelingto Calcutta. She was the wife of a burra sahib of the great Company, andwith her was her daughter. All went well until we came nearChandernagore; we struck a snag; the boat sprang a leak; we feared thebibis would be drowned. We rowed to this very ghat; a sahib welcomed theladies; they went into his house yonder. Presently he sent for us; welodged with his servants; but in the night we were set upon, bound, andcarried to Hugli. False witnesses accused us of being dacoits; we werecondemned; and I was confined with others in the prison.

  "Always since then have I looked for a chance of escape. It came at last.Some of the jailers went last night to the tamasha at Chinsura. I stoleout and got away. A sentry fired upon me, and hit me; but I am a goodswimmer and I plunged into the river. You know all that happened then, Oserang, and I beseech you leave this place; it is a dreadful place; someharm will come to us all."

  Desmond's knowledge of Bengali was as yet slight, and he caught onlyportions of the man's narrative. But he understood enough to convince himthat he was at last on the track of the missing ladies; and when, shortlyafterwards, Hossain gave him in Urdu the whole of the story, hedetermined at once to act on the information.

  On the return of the two Bengalis, he arranged with the serang to setthem at work on some imaginary repairs to the boat: that pretext fordelay was as good as another. Then, Hossain having reassured thefugitive, he himself landed and made his way up to the house.

  It was closed. There was no sign of its being inhabited. But about ahundred yards from the gate Desmond saw a basti {block of native huts},and from one of the huts smoke was issuing. He sauntered up. Before thedoor, lolling in unstudied dishabille, squatted a bearded, turbanedMohammedan, whom from his rotundity Desmond guessed to be the khansamanof the big house.

  "Salaam aleikam {peace be with you!}, khansaman!" said Desmond suavely."Pardon the curiosity of an ignorant sailor from Gujarat. What nawab ownsthe great house yonder?"

  The khansaman, beaming in acknowledgment of the implied compliment to hisown importance, replied:

  "To Sinfray Sahib, worthy khalasi."

  "The great Sinfray Sahib of Chandernagore? Surely that is a strangething!"

  "Strange! What is strange? That Sinfray Sahib should own so fine a house?You should see his other house in Chandernagore: then indeed you mightlift your eyes in wonder."

  "Nay, indeed, I marveled not at that, for Sinfray Sahib is indeed a greatman. We who dwell upon the kala pani know well his name. Is it not knownin the bazaars in Pondicheri and Surat? But I marvel at this, khansaman:that on one day, this day of my speaking to you, I should meet thesahib's most trusty servant, as I doubt not you are, and also the man whohas sworn revenge upon the owner of this house--ay, and on all thehousehold."

  "Bismillah! {'in the name of Allah!'--a common exclamation}" exclaimedthe khansaman, spitting out his betel. He was thoroughly interested, butas yet unconcerned. "What do you mean, khalasi?"

  "I parted but now, on the river, from a fellow boatman who of late haslain in prison at Hugli, put there, they say, by order of Sinfray Sahib.He is not a dacoit; no man less so; but false witnesses rose up againsthim. And, I bethink me, he said that the sahib's khansaman was one ofthese men with lying lips.

  "Surely he was in error; for your face, O khansaman, is open as the sun,your lips are fragrant with the very attar of truth. But he is filledwith rage and fury; in his madness he will not tarry to inquire. If heshould meet you--well, it is the will of Allah: no man can escape hisfate."

  The khansaman, as Desmond spoke, looked more and more distressed; and atthe last words his face was livid.

  "It is not true," he said. "But I know the blind fury of revenge. Do thouentreat him for me. I will pay thee well. I have saved a few pice {coin,value one-eighth of a penny}. It will be worth five rupees to thee; andto make amends to the madman, I will give him fifty rupees, even if itstrips me of all I have. Allah knows it was not my doing; it was forcedupon me."

  "How could that be, khansaman?" said Desmond, letting pass the man'scontradictory statements.

  "It is not necessary to explain; my word is my word."

  "No doubt; but so enraged is the khalasi I speak of that unless I canexplain to him fully he will not heed me. Never shall I dissuade him fromhis purpose."

  "It is the will of Allah!" said the khansaman resignedly. "I will tellyou. It was not Sinfray Sahib at all. He was at the Nawab's court atMurshidabad. He had lent his house to a friend while he was absent. Thefriend had a spite against Merriman Sahib, the merchant at Calcutta; andwhen the bibi and the chota bibi came down the river he seized them.Sinfray Sahib believes there was an attack by dacoits; but the bibi'speons were carried away by the sahib's friend: it was he that brought theevidence against them. The Angrezi Sahib induced me to swear falsely byavouching that Sinfray Sahib was also an enemy of Merriman Sahib; butwhen the judge had said his word the sahib bade me keep silence with mymaster, for he was ignorant of it all. The Angrezi Sahib is a terribleman: what could I do? I was afraid to speak."

  "And what was the name of the Angrezi Sahib?"

  "His name?--It was Higli--no, Digli Sahib--accursed be the day I firstsaw him."

  Desmond drew a long breath.

  "And what became of the bibi and the chota bibi?"

  "They were taken away."

  "Whither?"

  "I do not know."

  The answer was glib; Desmond thought a little too glib.

  "Why then, khansaman," he said, "I fear it would be vain for me to reasonwith the man I spoke of. He has eaten the salt of Merriman Sahib; hislord's injury is his also. But you acted for the best. Allah hafiz! thatwill be a morsel of comfort even if this man's knife should find its waybetween your ribs. Not every dying man has such consolation. Live inpeace, good khansaman."

  Desmond, who had been squatting in the oriental manner--an accomplishmenthe had learned with some pains at Gheria--rose to leave. The khansaman'sflorid cheeks again put on a sickly hue, and when the seeming lascar hadgone a few paces he called him back.

  "Ahi, excellent khalasi. I think--I remember--I am almost sure I candiscover where the two bibis are concealed."

  "Inshallah! {'please God!'--a common exclamation} That is indeedfortunate," said Desmond, turning back. "There lies the best chance ofaverting the wrath of this much-wronged man."

  "Wait but a little till I have clad myself duly; I will then go to afriend yonder and inquire."

  He went into his hut and soon returned clothed in the garments thatbefitted his position. Walking to a hut at the end of the block, he madepretense, Desmond suspected, of inquiring. He was soon back.

  "Allah is good!" he said. "The khitmatgar yonder tells me they were takento a house three coss {the coss is nearly two miles} distant, belongingto the great faujdar Manik Chand. It is rented from him by Digli Sahib,who is a great friend of his Excellency."

  "Well, khansaman, you will show me the way to the house."

  But the khansaman appeared to have donned, with his clothes, a sense ofhis own importance. The authoritative tone of the lascar offended hisdignity.

  "Who are you, scum of the sea, that you tell a khansaman of Bengal whathe shall do? Hold your tongue, piece of seaweed, or by the beard of theProphet--"

  The threat was never completed, for Desmond, stepping up close to theman, caught him by the back of the neck a
nd shook him till his teethrattled in his head.

  "Quick! Lead the way! Foolish khansaman, do you want your fat body shakento a jelly? That is the way with us khalasis from Gujarat. Quick, I say!"

  "Hold, khalasi!" panted the khansaman; "I will do what you wish. Believeme, you are the first khalasi from Gujarat I have seen--"

  "Or you would not have delayed so long. Quick, man!"

  With a downcast air the man set off. The sun was getting high; being fatand soft, the khansaman was soon in distress. But Desmond allowed him norespite. In about two hours they arrived at the house he had mentioned.The gate was ajar; the door broken open. Hastily entering, Desmond knewinstinctively by the appearance of the place that it was deserted.

  He went through the house from bottom to top. Not a living person was tobe seen. But in one of the rooms his quick eye caught sight of a smallhairpin such as only a European woman would use. He picked it up. Inanother room a cooking pot had been left, and it was evident that it hadbut lately been used. The simple furniture was in some disorder.

  The khansaman had with much labor managed to mount the stairs.

  "Allah is Allah!" he said. "They are gone!"