One of Clive's Heroes Part 47

She got up and walked to and fro restlessly. Then, as by a sudden impulse, she went quickly to the door and turned the handle. She gave a low cry under her breath, and sprang round.

"Mamma! mamma!" she cried. "I knew it! The door is locked."

Mrs. Merriman rose immediately.

"Nonsense, my dear! He would not dare do such a thing!"

But the door did not yield to her hand, though she pulled and shook it violently.

"The insolent villain!" she exclaimed. She had plenty of courage, and if her voice shook, it was with anger, not fear. She went to the window opening on the veranda, loosed the bars, and looked out.

"We can get out here," she said. "We will go instantly to Chandernagore, and demand a.s.sistance from the Governor."

But the next moment she shrank back into the room. Two armed peons stood in the veranda, one on each side of the window. Recovering herself Mrs.

Merriman went to the window again.

"They will not dare to stop us," she said. "Let me pa.s.s, you men; I will not be kept here."

But the natives did not budge from their post. Only, as the angry lady flung open one of the folding doors, they closed together and barred the way with their pikes. Accustomed to absolute subservience from her own peons, Mrs. Merriman saw at once that insistence was useless. If these men did not obey instantly they would not obey at all.

"I cannot fight them," she said, again turning back. "The wretches! If only your father were here!"

"Or Mr. Burke," said Phyllis. "Oh, how I wish he had come with us!"

"Wishing is no use, my dear. I vow the Frenchman shall pay dearly for this insolence. We must make the best of it."

Meanwhile Monsieur de Bonnefon had gone down to the ghat. But he did not send a messenger to Chandernagore as he had promised. He told the jamadar, in Urdu, that his mistress and the chota bibi would remain at his house for the night. They feared another accident if they should proceed in the darkness. He bade the man bring his party to the house, where they would all find accommodation until the morning.

In the small hours of that night there was a short sharp scuffle in the servants' quarters. The Merriman boatmen and peons were set upon by a score of st.u.r.dy men who promptly roped them together and, hauling them down to the ghat and into a boat, rowed them up to Hugli.

There they were thrown into the common prison. In the morning a charge of dacoity[#] was laid against them. The story was that they had been apprehended in the act of breaking into the house of Monsieur Sinfray.

Plenty of witnesses were forthcoming to give evidence against them; such can be purchased outside any cutcherry[#] in India for a few rupees.

The men were convicted. Some were given a choice between execution and service in the Nawab's army; others were sentenced off-hand to a term of imprisonment, and these considered themselves lucky in escaping with their lives. In vain they protested their innocence and pleaded that a messenger might be sent to Calcutta; the Nawab was known to be so much incensed against the English that the fact of their being Company's servants availed them nothing.

[#] Gang robbery.

[#] Court-house.

About the same time that the men were being condemned, a two-ox hackeri, such as was used for the conveyance of pardahnishin[#] women, left the house of Monsieur de Bonnefon and drove inland for some five miles. The curtains were closely drawn, and the people who met it on the road wondered from what zenana the ladies thus screened from the public gaze had come. The team halted at a lonely house surrounded by a high wall, once the residence of a zamindar, now owned by Coja Solomon of Cossimbazar, and leased to a fellow Armenian of Chandernagore. It had been hired more than once by Monsieur Sinfray, the Secretary to the Council at Chandernagore and a _persona grata_ with the Nawab, for _al fresco_ entertainments got up in imitation of the fetes at Versailles.

But of late Monsieur Sinfray had had too much important business on hand to spare time for such delights. He was believed to be with Siraj-uddaula at Murshidabad, and the house had remained untenanted.

[#] Literally, sitting behind screens.

The hackeri pulled up at the gate in the wall. The curtains were drawn aside; a group of peons surrounded the cart to fend off prying eyes; and the pa.s.sengers descended--two ladies clad in long white saris[#] and closely veiled. A sleek Bengali had already got out from a palanquin which had accompanied the hackeri; in a second palanquin sat Monsieur de Bonnefon, who did not take the trouble to alight. With many salaams the Bengali led the ladies through the gate and across the compound towards the house. They both walked proudly erect, with a gait very different from that of the native ladies who time and again had followed the same path. They entered the house; the heavy door was shut; and from behind the screens of the room to which they were led they heard the hackeri rumbling away.

[#] Garment in one piece, covering the body from head to foot.

Monsieur de Bonnefon, as his palanquin was borne off, soliloquized, ticking off imaginary accounts on the fingers of his left hand; the right hand was partly hidden by a black velvet mitten. His reckoning ran somewhat as follows--

"In account with Edward Merriman--

"Credit--to the hounding out of the Company by his friend Clive: nominal: I made more outside; to scurrilous abuse in public and private: mere words--say fifty rupees; to threat to hang me: mere words again--say fifty rupees. Total credit, say a hundred rupees.

"Debit--to ransom for wife and daughter: two lakhs.

"Balance in my favour, say a hundred and ninety-nine thousand nine hundred rupees.

"In a few weeks, Mr. Edward Merriman, I shall trouble you for a settlement."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIFTH

*In which our hero embarks on a hazardous mission; and Monsieur Sinfray's khansaman makes a confession.*

On arriving at Fulta Desmond found that the European fugitives from Calcutta were living for the most part on board the country ships in the river, while the military were cantoned in huts ash.o.r.e, on a plain eastward of the town. The avenues leading to their camp were occupied by sepoys. Desmond lost no time in making his way to Major Killpatrick's hut and 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 his cargo through from Cossimbazar, and the plucky stand you made against odds. By Jove, sir, 'twas an amazing good piece of work.

You deserved a commission if any youngster ever did, and I'm glad Mr.

Clive has done the right thing. Let me tell you, Mr. Clive don't make mistakes--in military matters, that is to say. And Gheria, now: egad, sir, you must have a head on your shoulders; and that en't flattery; we soldiers en't in the habit of laying on the b.u.t.ter. You did well; and sure you'll be of the greatest use to us here. We need a few men as are able to keep their heads in a warm place: and, begad, if they'd had such men in Bengal these last months we wouldn't be rotting here in this fever-haunted place. Why, I've lost thirty-two officers and men in less than a couple of months, and I'll be lucky if I've fifty fit for service 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 minds who is to command the expedition, and they're waiting for ships from home."

Major Killpatrick laughed.

"Why, I know how that will end. With Mr. Stringer Lawrence laid up there is only one man fit to do this job, and that's Mr. Clive, and the sooner the gentlemen on their office stools at Madras see that, the better in the 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 some thinking, what you're to do. We're badly served with news. We've got spies, of course; but I don't set much store by native spies in this country. We've information by the bushel, but when you come to sift it out there's precious little of it you can trust. And the enemy has got spies too--hundreds of 'em. I'll bet my boots there's a regular system of kasids for carrying news of us to Manik Chand and from him to the Nawab. If the truth was known, I daresay that rascal knows how many hairs I have on my bald crown under my wig--if that's any interest to him. 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 two I have in my mind and send for you when I've done turning."

On the way back to the sh.o.r.e Desmond met the serang who had accompanied him down the river from Cossimbazar. The man explained that after the capture of Calcutta his brother Hubbo, the Company's syr serang,[#] had been impressed into the service of the Nawab, and he himself had been sent by Hubbo to Fulta to a.s.sist the Council and merchants of the Company. He had there met Mr. Merriman, whom in common with many others he had believed to be dead. Mr. Merriman, having no immediate need for his services, had willingly permitted him to take his brother's place in the employment of the Company.

[#] Head boatman.

Mr. Merriman welcomed Desmond with quite fatherly affection, and congratulated him heartily on his appointment. The _Hormuzzeer_ being unlikely, owing to the complete cessation of trade, to make another voyage for some months to come, he decided to take up his quarters on board, and Desmond lived with him as a matter of course. Desmond was shocked to see the change wrought on his friend by the loss of his wife and daughter. All his gay spirits had left him; he had thinned perceptibly, and his eyes had that strained look which only a great sorrow can cause.

"I have been thinking it over, Desmond," he said as they sat in the cabin, "and I can only conclude that this is one more of Peloti's villainies. Good G.o.d! had he not done me and mine harm enough? Who else would be so dead to all sense of right, of decency, as to seize upon two helpless women? My brother was hanged, Desmond; hanging is too good for that scoundrel; but we cannot touch him; he laughs at us; and I am helpless--helpless!"