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"What house did he go into?"
"That I can't tell you, sir, not bein' sure o' my bearin's."
"But you could point it out?"
"'Course I could. Rather. Just so."
"Then I'll come along with you, and you can show me. If it is Diggle we must have him arrested."
"True, an' I'll knot the rope for his neck."
"How long ago was this?"
"Not a quarter of an hour, sir. I comed up at once."
The two set off together. They quickly reached the house; Desmond recognized it as Omichand's. The evening was closing in, but no lights were visible through the chiks[#] that covered the windows. While Desmond was considering, two figures stepped down from the veranda and walked rapidly across the compound towards the gate in the wall. At the first glance Desmond saw that Bulger had not been mistaken. The taller of the two figures was disguised, but it was impa.s.sible to mistake the gloved right hand. It was Diggle to a certainty.
[#] Hanging screens made of thin strips of bamboo.
"Are you game to capture them?" said Desmond.
Bulger grunted and gave a twist to his hook.
"I'll take Diggle," added Desmond: "you go for the other man."
They waited in the shadow of the wall. The gate opened, the two men came out, and in an instant Desmond and his companion dashed forward.
Taken by surprise, the men had no time to defend themselves. With his left hand Desmond caught at Diggle's sword-arm, and pointing his rapier at his heart, said:
"You are my prisoner, Mr. Diggle."
At the same moment Bulger had caught the second man by the throat, and raising his formidable hook, cried:
"Heave to, matey, or I'll spoil your mug for you."
The man uttered an exclamation in French, which ended in a wheeze as Bulger's strong fingers clutched his windpipe. But the next moment an unlooked-for diversion occurred. Attracted by the sound of the rapid scuffle, a number of natives armed with lathis[#] rushed across the compound into the street, and came swiftly to the rescue. Desmond and his companion had perforce to release their prisoners and turn to defend themselves. With their backs against the wall they met the a.s.sailants; Desmond with his rapier, Bulger with his hook, dexterously warding off the furious blows of the excited natives. Diggle and the Frenchman took instant advantage of the opportunity to slip away, and the Englishmen had already got home more than one shrewd thrust, provoking yells of pain from the attackers, when the onslaught suddenly ceased, and the natives stood rigid, as if under a spell. Looking round, Desmond saw at the gate a bent old figure with dusky wrinkled face and prominent eyes.
He wore a turban in which a jewel sparkled, and his white garment was girt with a yellow sash.
[#] Bludgeons.
"What is this, sahib?" he said severely in careful English, addressing Desmond.
"'Tis pretty plain what it is," said Desmond somewhat hotly; "we have been set upon by these six ruffians----"
The new-comer motioned with his hand, and the men slunk away.
"I regret, sahib. The men are badmashes; Calcutta is unhappily in a disturbed state."
"Badmashes or not, they came from your house--if this is your house."
"It is my house, sahib. My name is Omichand. I must inquire how the badmashes came to be in my compound. I fear my darwan is at fault."
"And what about the two men?"
"The two men, sahib?"
"Yes, the two Europeans who came first from the house, and were protected by these ruffians?"
"You must be mistaken, sahib. English sahibs do not visit at the houses of Indian gentlemen. If the sahib had been longer in Calcutta he would know that."
A smile flickered on the Indian's face, but it was gone instantly.
Desmond was nonplussed. It was useless to contradict the merchant; he was clearly not disposed to give any information; Diggle was gone. All he could do was to return and report the matter to Mr. Merriman.
"Come along, Bulger," he said, with an unceremonious gesture to Omichand. "We can do no good here."
"The old Ananias!" growled Bulger, as they walked away. "What in thunder is Diggle's game here? I'd give a year's baccy to have a chanst o' usin' my hook on him."
Mr. Merriman looked grave when he heard what had happened.
"To think of that villain once more escaping our clutches! The other fellow was a Frenchman, you say? There's mischief brewing. Sure if I was president I'd be tempted to arrest that wily old Omichand. Not that it would be of much use probably. Peloti is a bold fellow to venture here. You are sure 'twas he?"
"Absolutely. His disguise was good; he has altered his face in some way, and his dress is altogether changed; but I couldn't mistake the covered hand."
"'Tis an odd thing, that mitten. Probably it conceals some defect; the man's as vain as a peac.o.c.k. The mitten is a thing by which he may be traced, and I'll send my peons to start inquiries to-morrow. But I've something to say to you; something to propose. The _Hormuzzeer_ is ready to sail, save for that consignment at Cossimbazar I mentioned. My agent there is an Armenian named Coja Solomon; I've employed him for some years and found him trustworthy; but I can't get delivery of these goods. I've sent two or three messengers to him, asking him to hurry, but he replies that there is some difficulty about the dastaks--papers authorizing the despatch of goods free from customs duty. Now, will you go up the river and see what is causing the delay? I'll give you an introduction to Mr. Watts; he will do all he can for you, though no doubt his hands are full. You can take Surendra Nath with you to interpret; and you had better have some armed peons as an escort, and perhaps a number of men we can trust to work the boats if you can release the goods. Are you willing?"
"I will gladly do anything I can, sir. Indeed, I wished for an opportunity to see something of the country."
"You may see too much! I'd say beware of tigers, but Surendra Nath is so desperately timid that you can depend on him not to lead you into danger."
"The _Hormuzzeer_ will not sail until I return?"
"Not till the goods arrive. Why do you ask?"
"I should like to take Bulger with me. He's a good companion, with a shrewd head----"
"And a useful hook. I have no objection. You will be ready to start to-morrow, then. You must be up early: travelling will be impossible in the heat of the day."
"At dawn, sir."
CHAPTER THE TWENTIETH