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

by Herbert Strang

  Chapter 27: In which an officer of the Nawab disappears; and Bulgerreappears.

  "This will be my last trip, sahib, for my present master. He says I wastetoo much time on the river. He also complains that I go to places withoutleave and without reason. He heard we were at Mayapur, and wanted to knowwhy. I made excuses, sahib; I said whatever came into my head; but he wasnot satisfied, and I leave his service in a week."

  "That is a pity, Hossain. Unless we are in the service of some well-knownbanya we cannot go up and down the river without exciting suspicion.However, let us hope that before the week is out the fleet will be here."

  Desmond looked a little anxious. The success of his project forpreventing the fouling of the passage at Tanna Fort was more than everdoubtful. The petala was moored opposite the Crane ghat at Calcutta,taking in a cargo of jawar {millet} for Chandernagore. The work ofloading had been protracted to the utmost by the serang; for Desmond didnot wish to leave the neighborhood of Calcutta at the present juncture,when everything turned upon their being on the spot at the criticalmoment.

  While they were talking, a man who had every appearance of a respectablebanya approached the plank over which the coolies were carrying the jaweron board. He stood idly watching the work, then moved away, and squattedon a low pile of bags which had been emptied of their contents. For atime the serang paid no apparent heed to him; but presently, while thecoolies were still busy, he sauntered across the plank and strolling tothe onlooker exchanged a salaam and squatted beside him. Passers by mighthave caught a word or two about the grain market; the high prices; thedifficulties of transit; the deplorable slackness of trade; the infamousduplicity of the Greek merchants. At last the banya rose, salaamed, andwalked away.

  As he did so the serang carelessly lifted the bag upon which the banyahad been sitting, and, making sure that he was not observed, picked up atiny ball of paper scarcely bigger than a pea. Waiting a few moments, herose and sauntered back on board. A minute or two later the lascar in theafter part of the boat was unobtrusively examining the scrap of paper. Itcontained three words and an initial:

  Tomorrow about ten.--C.

  A change had been made in the composition of Hossain's crew since theincident at Sinfray's house. One day Desmond had found one of theBengalis rummaging in the corner of the cabin where he was accustomed tokeep his few personal belongings. Hossain had dismissed the man on thespot. The man saved from the river had been kept on the boat and proved agood worker, eager, and willing to be of use. He was an excellentboatman, a handy man generally, and, for a Bengali, possessed ofexceptional physical strength. At Desmond's suggestion Hossain offeredhim the vacant place, and he at once accepted it.

  Since his rescue he had shown much gratitude to Desmond. He was quickwitted, and had not been long on board before he felt that the khalasiwas not quite what he appeared to be. His suspicion was strengthened bythe deference, slight but unmistakable, paid by the serang to the lascar;for though Desmond had warned Hossain to be on his guard, the man hadbeen unable to preserve thoroughly the attitude of a superior to aninferior.

  On receiving the short message from Clive, Desmond had a consultationwith Hossain. The coolies had finished their work and received their pay,and there was nothing unusual in the sight of the boatmen squatting ondeck before loosing their craft from its moorings.

  "If we are to do what we wish to do, Hossain," said Desmond, "we shallrequire a third man to help us. Shall we take Karim into our confidence?"

  "That is as you please, sahib. He is a good man, and will, I think, befaithful."

  "Well, send the other fellow on shore; I shall speak to the man."

  The serang gave the second of the two Bengalis who had formed hisoriginal crew an errand on shore. Desmond beckoned up the new man.

  "Are you willing to undertake a service of risk, for a big reward,Karim?" he asked.

  The man hesitated.

  "It will be worth a hundred rupees to you."

  Karim's eyes sparkled; a hundred rupees represented a fortune to a man ofhis class; but he still hesitated.

  "Am I to be alone?" he asked at length.

  "No," said Desmond; "we shall be with you."

  "Hai! If the sahib"--the word slipped out unawares--"is to be there it isfixed. He is my father and mother: did he not save me from the river? Iwould serve him without reward."

  "That is very well. All the same the reward shall be yours--to be paid toyou if we succeed, to your family if we fail. For if we fail it will beour last day: they will certainly shoot us. There is time to draw back."

  "If the sahib is to be there I am not afraid."

  "Good. You can go aft. We shall tell you later what is to be done. Andremember, on this boat I am no sahib. I am a khalasi from Gujarat."

  "I shall remember--sahib."

  Desmond told the serang that the help of the man was assured, anddiscussed with him the enterprise upon which he was bent. He had givenhis word to Clive that the blocking of the river should be prevented, andthough the task bade fair to be difficult he was resolved not to fail.The vessels that were to be sunk in the fairway were moored opposite thefort at a distance of about a ship's length from one another. Thesubahdar was on the sloop farthest down the river, Hubbo on the next.With the subahdar there were three men. The signal for the scuttling ofthe vessels was to be the waving of a green flag by the subahdar; thiswas to be repeated by Hubbo, then by the serang on the sloop above him,and so on to the end. The vessels were in echelon, the one highest up theriver lying well over to the left bank and nearest to the fort, the reststudding the fairway so that if they sank at their moorings it would beimpossible for a ship of any size to thread its way between them. It didnot appear that anything had been done to insure their sinking broadsideto the current, the reason being probably that, whatever might beattempted with this design, the river would have its will with thevessels as soon as they sank.

  "Our only chance," said Desmond, "is to get hold of the subahdar. If wecan only capture him the rest should be easy--especially as Hubbo is onthe next sloop, which screens the subahdar's from the rest. It is out ofspeaking distance from the fort, too--another piece of luck for us. Ishall think things over in the night, Hossain; be sure to wake me, if Iam not awake, at least a gharri {half an hour} before dawn."

  It was the first of January, 1757. At half-past seven in the morning aheavily-laden petala was making its way slowly against the tide down theHugli. Four men were on board; two were rowing, one was at the helm, thefourth stood looking intently before him. The boat had passed severalvessels lying opposite Tanna Fort, at various distances from the bank,and came abreast of the last but one. There the rowers ceased pulling atan order from the man standing, who put his hand to his mouth and hailedthe sloop.

  An answer came from a man on deck inviting the caller to come on board.With a few strokes of the oars the petala was run alongside, and Hossainjoined his brother.

  "Is it well, brother?" he said.

  "It is well," replied Hubbo.

  Desmond at the helm of the petala looked eagerly ahead at the last sloopof the line. He could see the subahdar on deck, a somewhat portly figurein resplendent costume. A small dinghy was passing between his vessel andthe shore. It contained a number of servants, who had brought him hisbreakfast from the fort. The crews of the other vessels had preparedtheir food on board.

  After a time a dinghy was let down from Hubbo's sloop. Hubbo himselfstepped into it with one of his crew, and was rowed to the subahdar'svessel. Desmond, watching him narrowly, saw him salaam deeply as he wenton board.

  "Salaam, huzur!" said Hubbo. "Your Excellency will pardon me, butbismillah! I have just discovered a matter of importance. Our task,huzur, has lain much on my mind; we have never done anything of the sortbefore, and seeing on yonder petala a man I know well, who has spent manyyears on the kala pani, I ventured to ask if he knew what time would beneeded to sink a ship with several holes drilled in the hull."

  "That depends
on the size of the holes, fool!" said the subahdar with asnort.

  "True, huzur; that is what the serang said. But he went on to tell me ofa case like your Excellency's. His ship was once captured by the piratesof the Sandarbands. They drilled several holes in the hull, and rowedaway, leaving my friend and several of the crew to sink with the vessel.But the holes were not big enough. When the pirate had disappeared, themen on the ship, using all their strength, managed to run her ashore,filled up the holes at low tide, and floated her off when the tide camein again."

  A look of concern crept over the subahdar's face as he listened. He was aman without experience of ships, and became uneasy at the suggestion thatanything might mar the execution of his task. Manik Chand would notlightly overlook a failure.

  "Hearing this, huzur," Hubbo continued, "I venture to mention the matterto your Excellency, especially as it seemed to me, from what the serangsaid, that the holes drilled by the pirates were even larger than thosemade by the mistris {head workmen} sent from the fort."

  The subahdar looked still more concerned.

  "Hai!" he exclaimed, "it is very disturbing. And there is no time to doanything; the Firangi's ships are reported to be on their way up theriver; the dogs of Kafirs {unbelievers} may be here soon."

  He bit his fingers, frowned, looked anxiously down the river, then acrossto the brick fort at Tanna, then to the new mud fort at Aligarh on theother bank, as if wondering whether he should send or signal a message toone or the other. Hubbo was silent for a moment, then he said:

  "Have I the huzur's leave to speak?"

  "By the twelve imams {high priests descending from Ali, the son-in-law ofMahomet}, yes! but quickly."

  "There is a mistri on board the serang's boat who is used to working inships--a khalasi from Gujarat. He might do something on board yourExcellency's ship. If this vessel sank, according to the plan, theFirangi would not be able to get aboard the others, and they would havetime to sink slowly."

  "Barik allah {bravo!}! It is a good idea. Bid the mistri come aboard atonce."

  Hubbo sent a long hail over the water. The serang cast off the rope bywhich he had made fast to the sloop, and the petala came slowly downuntil it was abreast of the subahdar's vessel. Hossain, Desmond, andKarim stepped aboard, the last carrying a small box of tools. Only theBengali was left in the boat. All salaamed low to the subahdar.

  "This, huzur, is my friend," said Hubbo, presenting his brother. "This isthe mistri, and this his assistant."

  "Good!" said the subahdar. "Go down into the hold, mistri: look to theholes; if they are not large enough make them larger, and as quickly asyou can."

  Desmond with Karim dived down into the hold. It was filled with earth,except where a gangway shored up with balks of timber had been left togive access to the holes that had been drilled and temporarily stopped.After a few words from the subahdar, Hubbo and his brother followedDesmond below.

  Half an hour later, Hubbo climbed up through the hatchway and approachedthe subahdar, who was pacing the deck, giving many an anxious glance downthe river.

  "The mistri has bored another hole, huzur. He said the more holes thebetter. Perhaps your Excellency will deign to see whether you regard itas sufficient."

  "Nay, I should defile my clothes," said the subahdar, not relishing thethought of descending into the malodorous depths.

  "As your Excellency pleases," said Hubbo, salaaming.

  Then the gravity of his charge appeared to overcome the subahdar'sscruples. Gathering his robes close about him, he stepped to the hatchwayand lowered himself into the hold.

  "We must hasten," he said. "The ships of the Firangi may appear at anymoment, and I must be on the lookout.

  "Meantime," he added to Hubbo, "you keep watch."

  For a man of his build he was fairly active. Dropping on to the looseearth, he scrambled over it towards the oil lamp by whose light themistri and his assistant were working.

  "This, huzur," said Hossain, pointing to a circular cut in the plankingof the vessel, "is the new hole. It is not yet driven through, but ifyour Excellency thinks it sufficient--"

  The subahdar craned forward to examine it. "Khubber dar {look out}!" saidDesmond in a low voice.

  Hossain had only waited for this signal. He threw himself on the stoopingsubahdar and bore him to the floor, at the same time stuffing a gagbetween his teeth. In a couple of minutes he was lying bound andhelpless. His ornate garment was but little sullied. It had been strippedfrom him by the mistri, who hastily donned it over his own scantyraiment, together with the subahdar's turban.

  "How will that do, Hossain?" asked Desmond with a smile.

  The serang held up the oil lamp to inspect him. With his other hand heslightly altered the set of the turban and rearranged the folds of therobe.

  "That is excellent, sahib," he said. "A little more girth would perhapshave been better, but in the distance no one will notice."

  Then calling to Hubbo, he said that all was ready. Hossain clamberedthrough the hatchway, leaving Desmond concealed behind a large timberupright, supporting the deck. As soon as the serang had reached his side,Hubbo called to the men on watch and said:

  "Hai, Ali, Chedi, come here!"

  "Jo hukm {as ordered}!" replied one of the men. Two of the three hurriedaft, and at Hubbo's bidding, swung down into the hold. The serang orderedthem to go towards the lamp. They groped their way in that direction;Desmond sprang up through the hatchway; it was clapped down and firmlysecured, and the subahdar with two-thirds of his crew was a prisoner inthe hold. The third man at the far end of the boat had not seen or heardanything of what had happened.

  So far the plot had succeeded admirably. Whatever order might reach thewaiting vessels, it would not be given by the subahdar. The question nowwas, how to prevent the men in charge of the vessels and the authoritiesin Tanna Fort from becoming suspicious. The latter would not bedifficult. Manik Chand would gain nothing by blocking the fairway unlessit were absolutely necessary to do so, and, in common with other of theNawab's lieutenants, he had an overweening confidence in the power of theforts to repel an attack from the English ships. For this reason it wasadvisable to make the minds of the other men easy, and Desmond soon hiton a plan.

  "You had better return to your sloop, Hubbo," he said. "Send a message tothe men on the other vessels that I--the subahdar, you know--have made upmy mind to allow one of the enemy's ships to pass me before giving thesignal. I shall thus capture one at least, and it may be the admiral's."

  Hubbo set off, and when he reached his own vessel he sent a boat with amessage to each of the ships in turn. Meanwhile, thinking the appearanceof a petala alongside of the subahdar's sloop might awaken suspicion orat least curiosity in the fort, Desmond decided to send it down the riverin charge of Hossain. He was thus left alone on deck with the subahdar'sthird man.

  For a time the man, standing far forward, was unaware of the strikingchange in the personality garbed in the subahdar's clothes. But glancingback at length, he started, looked a second time, and after a moment'shesitation walked down the deck.

  "Go back to your post," said Desmond sternly, "and see that you keep agood lookout for the Firangi's ships."

  The man salaamed and returned to the prow in manifest bewilderment. Morethan once he looked back as he heard strange knockings from below.Desmond only smiled. If the sound was heard from the forts, it would beregarded merely as a sign that the preparations for sinking the vesselwere not yet completed.

  Time passed on, and ever and anon Desmond looked eagerly down the riverfor a sign of the oncoming fleet. At last, somewhere about midday, heobserved signs of excitement in Tanna Fort, and almost simultaneously sawa puff of smoke and heard a report from one of its guns.

  Shortly afterwards he observed the spars of a British-built ship slowlyapproaching upstream. In full confidence that the scheme for blocking theriver was now frustrated, he awaited with patience the oncoming of thefleet, wondering whether the forts would make a determined re
sistance.

  Slowly the vessel drew nearer. Another shot was fired from the fort, withwhat result Desmond could not tell. But immediately afterwards he heardthe distant report of a heavy gun, followed by a crash near at hand, anda babel of yells. A shot from the British ship had plumped right in thecenter of Tanna Fort. At the same moment Desmond recognized thefigurehead.

  "'Tis the Tyger!" he said to himself with a smile. "Won't Captain Lathamgrin when he sees me in this rig!"

  Then he laughed aloud, for the valiant defenders of Tanna Fort had notwaited for a second shot. They were swarming helter skelter out of harm'sway, rushing at the top of their speed up the river and leaving theirfortress to its fate. On the other bank the garrison of Aligarh Fort hadalso taken flight, and were streaming along with excited cries in thedirection of Calcutta.

  The man in the bows of the sloop looked amazedly at the new subahdar. Whydid he laugh? Why did he not wave the green flag that lay at his hand?When were the men who had gone below going to knock out the stoppings ofthe holes and take to the boat with himself and their commander? But thesubahdar still stood laughing.

  All at once Desmond, remembering the real subahdar below, asked himself:what if he drove out the bungs and scuttled the vessel? But the questionbrought a smile to his lips. He could not conceive of the Bengali'splaying such a heroic part, and he possessed his soul in peace.

  Now the Tyger was in full sight, and behind her Desmond saw thewell-remembered Kent, Admiral Watson's flagship. The stampede from theforts had evidently been observed on board, for firing had ceased, andboats were already being lowered and filled with men.

  Desmond waited. The Tyger's boats, he saw, were making for Tanna Fort:the Kent's for Aligarh. But one of the latter was heading straight forthe sloop. Desmond could not resist the temptation to a joke. Makinghimself look as important as he could, he stood by the gunwale watchingwith an air of dignity the oncoming of the boat. It was in command of ayoung lieutenant. The men bent to their oars with a will, and Desmondcould soon hear the voice of the officer as he called to his crew.

  But his amusement was mingled with amazement and delight when, in the bigform sitting in the bow of the boat, he recognized no other than his oldmessmate, his old comrade in the Fight of the Carts--William Bulger. Thejoke would be even better than he had expected.

  The boat drew closer: it was level with the nose of the sloop; and thelieutenant sang out the command, "Ship oars!" It came alongside.

  "Bulger," cried the lieutenant, "skip aboard and announce us to that oldpeacock up on deck."

  "Ay, ay, sir," replied Bulger, "which his feathers will be plucked, or myname en't Bulger."

  At the side of the sloop lay the dinghy intended to convey the subahdarand his men ashore when the work of sinking had been started. It was madefast to the vessel by a rope. Bulger sprang into the dinghy and thenbegan an ascent so clever, and at the same time so comical, that Desmondhad much ado not to spoil his joke by a premature explosion of laughter.The burly seaman swarmed up the rope like a monkey, clasping it with hislegs as he took each upward grip. But the comedy of his actions wasprovided by his hook. Having only one arm--an arm, it is true, with thebiceps of a giant--he could not clutch the rope in the ordinary way. Butat each successive spring he dug his hook into the side of the vessel,and mounted with amazing rapidity, talking to himself all the time.

  "Avast, there!" he shouted, as with a final heave upon the hook dug intothe gunwale he hoisted himself on deck. "Haul down your colors, matey,which they make a pretty pictur', they do."

  He came overpoweringly towards Desmond, his arm and stump spread wide asif to embrace him.

  "I may be wrong," said Desmond, "but have I not the pleasure ofaddressing Mr. William Bulger?"

  Bulger started as if shot. His broad face spelled first blank amazement,then incredulity, then surprised belief. Spreading his legs wide andbending his knees, he rested his hand on one and his hook on the other,shut one eye, and stuck his tongue out at the corner of his mouth.

  "By the Dutchman!" he exclaimed, "if it don't beat cock fighting! Sure,'tis Mr. Burke himself! Anna Maria! But for why did you go for to makeyourself sich a Guy Faux guy, sir?"

  "How are you, old fellow?" said Desmond heartily. "I am a bit of ascarecrow, no doubt, but we've won the trick, man. The real guy is downbelow, dead from fright by this time, I expect.

  "Sorry to give you the trouble of boarding, sir," he added, as thelieutenant came over the side. "If you'll take me into your boat I'll beglad to report to the admiral or to Colonel Clive."

  "By jimmy, Mr. Burke!" said the lieutenant, laughing, "you've got a wayof your own of popping up at odd times and in odd places. Come with me,by all means--just as you are, if you please. The admiral wouldn't missthe look of you for anything. By George! 'tis a rare bit of play acting.Did I hear you say you've got some natives under hatchways?"

  "Yes; the owner of this finery is below with two of his men. You can hearhim now."

  There was a violent and sustained knocking below deck.

  "I'll send my man to release him. The fleet are all coming up, sir?"

  "Yes; the Bridgewater and Kingfisher are close in our wake. Come along;we'll catch the admiral before he goes ashore."