One of Clive's Heroes Part 58

While this was going on the sky had been darkening. A north-wester was coming up, and after his experience on the eve of Pla.s.sey, Desmond knew what that meant. He hastily embarked his men, and the boat started; but it had scarcely covered a third of the distance across the river when the wind struck it. Fortunately the sail was not up: as it was, the flat-bottomed boat was nearly swamped. Drenching rain began to fall.

The river was lashed to fury: for three crowded minutes it seemed to Desmond a miracle that the boat was still afloat. The waves dashed over its sides; the men, blinded by the rain, were too much cowed to attempt to bale out. Desmond was at the helm; Bulger and Toley had an oar each; although only a few yards distant, Desmond could scarcely see them through the pelting rain. Then the wind moderated somewhat: he peremptorily ordered the men to use their bra.s.s lotis[#] to bale out the boat, and determined to turn the storm to account.

[#] Drinking vessels.

With great difficulty he got the sail hoisted, and their the vessel ran down the river at racing speed. The distance to Manda, as the Armenian had told him, was six miles--four by river, two by land. By Diggle's route it was ten miles. The hors.e.m.e.n had had such a start of him that he feared he could not overtake them in time. Still the storm that now helped him would hinder them. If he survived the perils of the river pa.s.sage, he might even yet succeed. He was alive to the risks he ran.

More than once, as the wind changed a point, it seemed that the cranky craft must turn turtle. But she escaped again and again, plunging on her headlong course. The sepoys were st.u.r.dy enough fellows, but being unused to the water they cowered in the bottom of the boat, except when Desmond's stern command set them frantically baling. Almost before it seemed possible they came in sight of a bend in the river, which one of the men, who knew the district, had described to Desmond as the nearest point to the village he sought. So rapid had the pa.s.sage been that Desmond felt that, if they could only land in safety, they might have gained considerably on Diggle's hors.e.m.e.n. The latter must have felt the full effect of the gale: it was likely that for a time they had taken shelter. Desmond and his men were wet to the skin, but, profiting by the recollection of what had happened at Pla.s.sey, they had kept their ammunition dry.

At the bend the river presented a shelving beach, being at least twice as wide at this point during the rainy season as at other periods.

Without hesitation Desmond ran the nose of the boat straight at the beach: she came to with a violent b.u.mp; the men tumbled out waist-deep into the water, and with shrill cries of relief scrambled ash.o.r.e.

No time was lost. Waiting only to inspect their muskets, Desmond at once began the march, the band being led by the man who knew the country. Another man, a noted runner, formerly a kasid in the employment of the Nawab of the Dekkan, was sent in advance to find Surendra Nath's house, give him warning of Desmond's coming, and instruct him to have some one on the look-out for the approach of the enemy, if Diggle was not indeed already in possession of the village.

The rest pushed on with all speed. The storm had cleared the air: the rain had ceased; and though it was unpleasant walking over the soppy ground, the march was much cooler than it had been earlier in the day.

Desmond longed for a hill from which to get a view of the country; but, as almost everywhere in the valley of the Ganges, it was dead flat. The party was within a quarter-mile of the village when the kasid came running back. He had found the Babu's house. From its flat roof a body of horse had been seen in the distance, nearly a coss away. Desmond at once ordered his men to double, and as they dashed into the village among the wondering people the kasid pointed out Surendra Nath's house at the far end--a small two-storied building, surrounded by a wall and approached through a rickety iron gateway. It was the first house to which the approaching hors.e.m.e.n would come.

A man in native dress was standing at the gate. At first Desmond did not recognize him, but as he drew nearer he saw that it was Surendra Nath himself, looking years older--weak, thin, sunken-eyed, little like the sleek well-fed Babu Desmond had last seen in Calcutta.

"Are the ladies safe?" asked Desmond, yards ahead of his men.

"Yes, sir, quite safe," replied Surendra Nath, trembling.

"Thank G.o.d for that! Go in, Babu; tell them we are here to protect them."

While speaking he had eagerly scanned the surroundings. On each side of the sodden track that did duty for a road there was a mango grove.

Desmond directed Toley to take four men to one side, and Bulger four men to the other, and place themselves among the trees. When the first three files of the hors.e.m.e.n should have pa.s.sed through, the seamen were to give the word to fire; then, taking advantage of the inevitable confusion, to rush with their men to the house. Desmond himself meanwhile, with the remaining twelve, set to work to strengthen the defences. These proceedings were watched with amazement by the villagers, who, men, women, and children, stood in groups, discussing in shrill tones the movements of these energetic strangers.

There was a small veranda to the house. This was wrenched away by main force. The posts and other parts of the woodwork were carried to the gateway and piled up as rapidly as possible to form a rough barricade.

Scarcely was this task half accomplished when the clanking of weapons was heard in the distance, soon accompanied by the swas.h.i.+ng of horses'

hoofs on the drenched soil. Desmond coolly ordered his men to proceed with the work. A minute later there was a sharp discharge of musketry, followed by cries, shouts, and the sound of galloping horses. The villagers scuttled away shrieking. Immediately afterwards Bulger and Toley with their eight men sprang from cover and made a dash for the wall.

"Muskets first!" shouted Desmond.

The muskets were pitched over: then the men scrambled up, Desmond and his sepoys a.s.sisting them to get across. Almost the first to drop down into the compound was Bulger, whose hook had proved, not for the first time, of more service than a sound left arm. Once over himself, he used his hook to haul the sepoys after him, with many a vigorous "Yo heave ho!"

"All aboard, sir," he cried, when the last of the men was within the wall. "I may be wrong, but I lay my b.u.t.ton-hook 'tis now all hands to repel boarders; and only two cutla.s.ses among us--mine and Mr. Toley's.

Howsomdever, notwithstandin', and which is all the same!"

Desmond ordered four of his men to post themselves at the barricaded gateway: the rest he divided into two parties, and stationed behind the wall at each side. The wall was six feet high--too high to fire over--but as it was in a somewhat dilapidated condition there was no difficulty in knocking away several loose bricks at intervals, so as to make a rough-and-ready battlement. Desmond instructed the men to fire alternately through the embrasures thus made. As soon as one had fired he was to fall back and reload as fast as possible while another man took his place. By this device, Desmond hoped to deceive the enemy for a time as to the numbers of the defenders in the compound.

But it was not to be expected that the enemy could long be kept out, and in the last resort it would be necessary to retreat to the house. In view of the presence of the ladies this was a step to be avoided if possible. It might indeed be the wiser course to surrender for their sakes. As the thought struck Desmond he called to the Babu, who was keeping watch on the roof.

"Babu," he said, "ask the ladies to occupy the least-exposed room. Tell them that if the enemy get over the wall I will try to make an arrangement with them, rather than provoke an attack on the house."

The Babu disappeared. But a few moments later Phyllis Merriman, wearing the costume of a native lady came running out.

"Mother bids me say, Mr. Burke," she said, "on no account let such considerations weigh with you. She says fight to the last. We will risk anything rather than go back to captivity. You will beat them, Mr.

Burke, won't you?"

"I will do my best, Miss Merriman," replied Desmond. "But pray go back; they may be here at any moment. I need not say how glad I am to find you well. Pray tell Mrs. Merriman that we will all do our best for her and you."

"I know you will. And my father?"

"He is distressed, of course, but clings to hope. Do, Miss Merriman, retire at once. I see the enemy coming from the grove."

"Phyllis! Phyllis!" cried Mrs. Merriman from the house; "come in at once! Mr. Burke, send her in. Have no mercy on the wretches, I implore you."

The girl walked back reluctantly. Unknown to Desmond, she went no further than the doorway, where, just hidden from sight, she watched all that followed.

The enemy had clearly been nonplussed by their sudden check. There were no British troops, so far as they knew, for many miles round, and concerted resistance from the natives was unlikely. But they were now emerging from the mango grove, a hundred yards away. They came on foot, leaving their horses out of musket range. Desmond's heart sank as he counted them. There were even more than he had supposed. They numbered fifty-four, and several had no doubt been left in charge of the horses.

Still he felt that he had two advantages. The first was his position behind a wall; the second, the fact that the enemy, unless they had obtained information from the villagers, could not know what force they had to deal with. Their ignorance of course must be only temporary; if one of them should succeed in mounting the wall the weakness of the defence must immediately be seen.

As the enemy, tall men in the costume of native cavalry, a.s.sembled by twos and threes at the edge of the grove Desmond noticed three Europeans leave the main body and advance some way into the open. It was with a flush of indignation and a fierce resolve to bring him at last to book that Desmond recognized one of them as Diggle. With his companions he walked at a safe distance completely round the building. For some time they halted at the back, carefully scanning the position. Here the wall approached the house much more closely than in the front, and no one could mount it without being fully exposed to fire from the upper windows. After his examination, Diggle returned with the two men, whom from their appearance Desmond judged to be Frenchmen, to the main body, and sent off half a dozen men towards the other end of the village.

While they were gone one of the Frenchmen seemed to Desmond to be expostulating with Diggle; but the latter only laughed and waved his gloved hand in the direction of the house.

The messengers soon returned, dragging with them three of the villagers.

These Diggle took aside separately and questioned: it was clear to Desmond that he was ascertaining the strength of the garrison.

Apparently satisfied, he divided his force into three parts; the largest, consisting of some forty men, remained at the edge of the grove; the two smaller proceeded to the right and left of the back of the house. One was in command of a Frenchman, but the Frenchman who had expostulated with Diggle had apparently refused to have anything to do with the affair: he held himself aloof, and by and by disappeared into the grove. Diggle's evident intention was to weaken the garrison by forcing Desmond to divide his already too small force. He had to detach eight of his men--three to the windows and five to the wall; leaving only fourteen, including Bulger and Toley, to meet the rush in front.

It was not long in coming. Diggle did not wait to parley. Taking a musket from one of his men he raised it to his shoulder and fired at a sepoy whose head just showed above the gate. The man raised his hand to his brow and fell back with a sharp cry--a bullet had ploughed a furrow through his scalp. Desmond checked his men as they were about to fire in reply; but when, in the rush that followed, the enemy came within thirty yards, he gave the word, and seven muskets flashed forth across the barricade. The attacking party were coming forward in close order, and five of the men fell. But the rest sprang forward with shrill yells, Diggle, who was untouched, urging them on. Even the fire of Desmond's second rank failed to check them. Two or three dropped; others were soon swarming up the wall, and though the defenders with clubbed muskets struck savagely at their heads and hands as they appeared above the coping, if one drew back, another took his place; and the wall was so long that at several points there were gaps between Desmond's sepoys where the enemy could mount unmolested.

Desmond, having discharged his two pistols, disposing of one of the a.s.sailants with each shot, was in the act of reloading when Diggle leapt into the compound, followed by two of his men. Shouting to Bulger, Desmond threw the pistols and rammer on the ground behind him, and, drawing his sword, dashed at the three intruders, who were slightly winded by the charge and their exertions in scaling the wall.

Desmond could never afterwards remember the details of the crowded moments that followed. There were cries all around him: behind, the strident voice of Mr. Toley was cheering his men to repel the a.s.sault at the back of the house; at his side Bulger was bellowing like a bull of Bashan. But all this was confused noise to him, for his attention was wholly occupied with his old enemy. His first lunge at Diggle was neatly parried, and the two, oblivious of all that was happening around them, looked and into each other's eyes, read grim determination there, and fought with a cold fury that meant death to the first that gave an opening to his opponent's sword.

If motive counted, if the right cause could always win, the issue admitted of no doubt. Desmond had a heavy score to pay off. From the time when he had met Diggle in the street at Market Drayton to his last encounter with him at the Battle of the Carts, he had been the mark of his enmity, malice, spite, trickery. But Desmond thought less of his own wrongs than of the sorrow of his friend Mr. Merriman, and the harrowing wretchedness which must have been the lot of the ladies while they were in Diggle's power. The man had brought misery into so many lives that it would be a good deed if, in the fortune of war, Desmond's sword could rid the world of him.

And Diggle, on his side, was nerved by the power of hate. Baseless as were his suspicions of Desmond's friends.h.i.+p with Sir Willoughby Stokes, he felt that this boy was an obstacle. Ever since their paths had crossed he had been conscious that he had to do with a finer, n.o.bler nature than his own; and Desmond's courage and skill had again and again frustrated him. As he faced him now, it was with the feeling that, if this boy were killed, a most dangerous barrier to the realisation of his nefarious schemes would be removed. Thus, on either side, it was war to the death. What Desmond lacked in skill and experience he made up for by youth and strength. The two combatants were thus equally matched: a grain in the scale might decide the issue. But the longer the fight lasted the better were Desmond's chances. He had youth in his favour.

Thanks in large measure to Diggle himself, Desmond had led a hard life: his muscles were like iron. The older man by and by began to flag: more than once his guard was nearly beaten down: nothing but his great skill in swordsmans.h.i.+p and the coolness that never deserted him saved him from the sharp edge of Desmond's blade.

But when he seemed almost at the end of his strength, fortune suddenly befriended him. Bulger, with his clubbed musket and terrible iron hook, had disposed of the two men who leapt with Diggle into the compound; but there were others behind them: three men dropped to the ground close by, and, making a simultaneous rush, bore Bulger back against Desmond, hampering his sword arm. One of Desmond's sepoys sprang to the rescue, but he was too late to stem the tide. A blow from a musket stock disabled Bulger's right arm; he lost his footing. As he fell, his hook, still active, caught Diggle's leg and brought him to the ground, just as, taking advantage of the diversion, he was making exultantly what he intended for a final lunge at Desmond. He fell headlong, rolling over Bulger, who was already on the ground.

How the end came Desmond did not clearly see. He knew that he was beset by three of Diggle's men, and, falling back before them, he heard the voice of Phyllis Merriman close by, and felt a pistol thrust into his hand. She had slipped out of the doorway, picked up the weapons as they lay where Desmond had flung them, completed the loading, and advanced fearlessly into the thick of the fray. At one and the same moment Desmond fired upon his enemies and implored the brave girl to go back.

Then suddenly there was a lull in the uproar. Bulger was upon his feet, Diggle's men paused in their fighting and gazed in consternation at their prostrate leader. It seemed but a moment; then every man of them was scrambling pell-mell over the wall, yelling as the stocks of the sepoys' muskets sped them on their flight.

"What is it?" asked Desmond.

Bulger pointed to the form of Diggle, lying huddled among the fallen.

"He've gone to his account, sir, which I may be wrong, but the Almighty have got a long black score agen him."

"How did it happen?"

Bulger lifted his hook.

"'Twas that there Diggle as was the why and wherefore o' this little ornament, sir, and 'twas only right he should be paid for what he done.

We fell down, him and me; I was under. He hoisted himself on his hands to get free, and I lifted my hook, sir, and caught him a blow under the chin. If it didn't break his neck, sir, my name en't Bill Bulger, which I'm sorry for his poor wicked soul all the same."