One of Clive's Heroes Part 55

"I think I can, sahib," he said at length. "I would do much for Merriman Sahib. A man I frequently employ is now anch.o.r.ed off my ghat.

No doubt, for fair pay, he and another might be persuaded to lend their craft."

"Very well, be good enough to arrange it. I only require the boats for a few hours to-morrow morning. Do you think twenty rupees would suffice?"

The native opened his eyes. He himself would not have offered so much.

But he said--

"Doubtless that will suffice, sahib. The matter is settled."

"I will meet you in an hour. Thank you."

Returning to the budgeros, Desmond instructed Hossain to go into the bazar and buy up all the fresh fruit he could find. The sales for the day were over, but Hossain hunted up the fruit sellers and bargained so successfully that when he returned he was accompanied by a whole gang of coolies, bearing what seemed to Desmond an appalling quant.i.ty of melons, all for thirty rupees.

Before this, however, Aghor Nath Bose had reported that the hire of the two boats was duly arranged. They were open boats, little more than barges, with a small cabin or shelter aft. Their crews had been dismissed and had taken their belongings ash.o.r.e; both were empty of cargo. Desmond went with Bulger on board and arranged a number of bamboos crosswise on the boats, covering up the empty s.p.a.ces which would usually be occupied by merchandise. Over the bamboos he placed a layer of thin matting, and on this, when Hossain returned, he ordered the coolies to put the melons. To a casual observer it would have appeared that the boats were laden with a particularly heavy cargo of the golden fruit.

An hour before dawn the lascars and others from the _Hormuzzeer_ slipped quietly from the budgeros on board the country boats, and bestowed themselves as best they could under the bamboo deck supporting the melons. It was cool in the early morning, although the hot season was approaching; but Desmond did not envy the men their close quarters.

They were so much excited, however, at the adventure before them, and so eager to earn the liberal reward promised them if it succeeded, that not a man murmured. The Europeans had cooler quarters in the rude cabins, where they were hidden from prying eyes under miscellaneous native wraps.

Desmond had learnt from the pilot that it would be nearly eight o'clock before the depth of water over the bar was sufficient to allow a s.h.i.+p like the _Good Intent_ to proceed with safety. A little before daybreak the two boats crept out from the ghat. It was well to avoid curiosity before Mayapur woke up. Desmond steered the first, Hossain the second; and besides the steersman there were two men visible on the deck of each. The tide was running up, but the wind still held from the north-east, and, though moderated in force since the evening, it was strong enough to take them slowly down towards the _Good Intent_. The sky was lightening, but a slight mist hung over the river. Desmond kept a close look-out ahead, and in a quarter of an hour he caught sight of the hull of the _Good Intent_, looming before him out of the mist.

Allowing the second boat to come alongside, he turned and spoke to the serang.

"Now, Hossain, there she is. Hail her."

"Eo, eo!" shouted the man. "Do the sahibs want to buy any fresh fruit?"

An oath floated down from the stern. Captain Barker was there, peering intently through the mist up the river.

"Good melons, sahib, all fresh, and not too ripe. Cheap as ragi, sahib."

The mate had joined the captain; the Dutch pilot stood by smoking a pipe. The fruit boats had by this time come under the stern of the vessel, and Desmond heard the mate say--

"We came away in such a hurry, sir, that we hadn't time to take in a supply of vegetables. Melons'll keep, sir, if they en't over-ripe."

Barker growled, then bent over and called to the serang. "How much?"

"Very cheap, sahib, very cheap. I will come aboard."

"Then be quick about it: we're going to trip the anchor, melons or no melons. D'ye hear?"

Hossain ran down the sail and clambered up the chains, while the other boatmen made fast to a rope thrown from the deck. Desmond also lowered his sail, steering so as to approach the port quarter of the _Good Intent_, the serang's boat being on the starboard. No rope was thrown to him, but he found that the tide was now only strong enough to neutralize the wind, and a stroke every now and again with the paddle at the stern kept his boat stationary.

Meanwhile there came from the deck the sing-song of men heaving up the anchor. When the serang stepped on board the greater part of the crew of the _Good Intent_ were forward. Little time was spent in haggling.

A melon was thrown up as a sample, and the price asked was so extraordinarily low that Captain Barker evidently thought he had got a bargain.

"Heave 'em up," he said, "and if they en't all up to sample----"

He broke off, no doubt believing that his fierce scowl was sufficient to point his threat. The serang hailed Desmond to come alongside. A few sweeps of the paddle brought the boat close underneath the _Good Intent's_ side, and a second rope enabled him to make fast.

He swarmed up the rope, followed by one of the boatmen. The other on the boat began to fill a basket with melons, as if preparing to send them on board. At the same time Karim joined Hossain from the other side, so that there were now four of the party on deck. At a sign from Desmond, the two natives, carrying out instructions previously given, strolled towards the companion way. Hossain had started a conversation with the captain and mate, telling them about the British fleet he had pa.s.sed as he came down the river. The Dutch pilot looked on, stolidly puffing his pipe.

Desmond stepped to the side of the vessel as though to hoist the basket with the running tackle. Making a sign to the men below, he called in a loud voice--

"Tano!"

Instantly the men swarmed up the rope. At the signal, misleading to the crew of the _Good Intent_, man after man crawled from beneath the matting on the boat below, and clambered up the ropes, led by Bulger on one side and Mr. Toley on the other. They made little noise, and that was drowned by the sing-song of the sailors and the grinding of the cables; the pilot with his back to the bulwarks saw nothing, and before Captain Barker knew that anything unusual was occurring both Bulger and Toley were tumbling over the sides. The captain stood almost petrified with amazement as he saw Bulger's red face rising like the morning sun.

He stepped back a pace.

"What the----"

The exclamation was never completed. Desmond stepped up to him, and in a low voice said--

"In the name of His Majesty King George I call upon you, Captain Barker, to surrender this s.h.i.+p."

He had a levelled pistol in his hand. Bulger with a cutla.s.s sprang to one side, and Toley ranged himself on the other. Hossain had joined the two boatmen at the companion way; all had brought out pistols from the folds of their clothing, and the companion way commanded access to the s.h.i.+p's armoury.

Barker, who had grown purple at the sight of Bulger, now turned a sickly white. The mate dashed forward, calling to the crew, who, seeing that something was amiss, came along with a rush, arming themselves with belaying pins and any other weapons that came handy. Toley, however, leaving the cowed and speechless captain to Desmond, stepped towards the men. They recognized him at once and paused doubtfully.

"You know me," he said. "I'm a man of few words. You won't go further this voyage. Captain Barker has surrendered the s.h.i.+p. You'll drop those desperate things in your hands and go for'ard. Show a leg, now!"

The men looked from one to another, then at the captain, who was at that moment handing over his sword to Desmond. If Captain Barker was too badly beaten to swear, he was in poor case indeed. The crew's hesitation was but momentary: under Toley's sad gaze they sullenly flung down their weapons and went forward. Only then did the captain find speech. But it was to utter a fearful curse, ending with the name--

"Diggle."

CHAPTER THE TWENTY-NINTH

*In which our hero does not win the Battle of Pla.s.sey; but, where all do well, gains as much glory as the rest.*

Leaving Mr. Toley to bring the _Good Intent_ up to Calcutta, Desmond hurried back in advance and remained in the town just long enough to inform Mr. Merriman of the happy result of his adventure and to change into his own clothes, and then returned to Chandernagore on horseback as he had come. He found Clive encamped two miles to the west of the fort.

No reply having reached him from Monsieur Renault, Clive had read the Declaration of War as he had threatened, and opened hostilities by an attack on an outpost.

"You've no need to tell me you've succeeded, Burke," he said, when Desmond presented himself. "I see it in your eyes. But I've no time to hear your story now. It must wait until we have seen the result of the day's fighting. Not that I expect much of it in this quarter. We can't take the place with the land force only, and I won't throw away life till the Admiral has tried the effect of his guns."

The French in Chandernagore were not well prepared to stand a determined siege. The Governor, Monsieur Renault, had none of the military genius of a Dupleix or a Bussy. With him were only some eight hundred fighting men, of whom perhaps half were Europeans. Instead of concentrating his defence on the fort he scattered his men about the town, leaving the weakest part of his defences, the eastern curtain, insufficiently manned. He believed that Admiral Watson would find it impossible to bring his biggest s.h.i.+ps within gunshot, and fancied that by sinking some vessels at the narrowest part of the river he would keep the whole British fleet unemployed--a mistake that was to cost him dear.

By the night of March 14 Clive had driven in the outposts. The immediate effect of this was the desertion of 2,000 natives sent to Renault's a.s.sistance by Nandk.u.mar the faujdar of Hugli. A continuous bombardment was kept up until the 19th, when Admiral Watson arrived from Calcutta with the _Kent_, the _Tyger_, and the _Salisbury_.

Next morning an officer was despatched in a boat to summon Renault once more to surrender. Rowing between the sunken vessels, whose masts showed above water, he took soundings and found that with careful handling the men-o'-war might safely pa.s.s. Once more Renault refused to surrender. His offer to ransom the fort was declined by the Admiral, who the same night sent the master of the _Kent_ to buoy the Channel.

Two nights later, in pitch darkness, several English boats were rowed with m.u.f.fled oars to the sunken vessels. Their crews fixed lanterns to the masts of these in such a way that the lights, while guiding the wars.h.i.+ps, would be invisible from the fort.

Early next morning Clive captured the battery commanding the river pa.s.sage, and the three British s.h.i.+ps ran up with the tide. The _Kent_ and _Tyger_ opened fire on the south-east and north-east bastions, and these two vessels bore the brunt of a tremendous cannonade from the fort. The French artillery was well served, doing fearful damage on board the British vessels. On the _Kent_, save the Admiral himself and one lieutenant, every officer was killed or wounded. One shot struck down Captain Speke and shattered the leg of his son, a brave boy of sixteen, who refused to allow his wound to be examined until his father had been attended to, and then bore the pain of the rough amputation of those days without a murmur. Meanwhile Clive's men had climbed to the roofs of houses near the fort, which commanded the French batteries; and his musketeers poured in a galling fire and shot down the gunners at their work. As the walls of the barracks and fort were shattered by the guns from the s.h.i.+ps, the sepoys crept closer and closer, awaiting the word to storm.

The morning drew on. Admiral Watson began to fear that when the tide fell his big guns would be at too low a level to do further execution.

There was always considerable rivalry between himself and Clive, fed by the stupid jealousy of some of the Calcutta Council. While Clive, foreseeing even more serious work later, was anxious to spare his men, Watson was equally eager to reap all possible credit for a victory over the French. As it happened, neither had to go to the last extremity, for about half-past nine a white flag was seen flying from the fort.