One of Clive's Heroes Part 59

Phyllis had her hands clasped about Desmond's arm.

"Is he dead?" she asked in a voice of awe.

"Come away," said Desmond quietly, leading her towards the house. "Let us find your mother."

CHAPTER THE THIRTY-FIRST

*In which friends meet, and part; and our hero hints a proposal.*

The fight was over. It was Diggle's quarrel; neither the Frenchmen nor the natives had any concern in it, and when their leader was dead they had no more interest in continuing the struggle. They drew off; the weary defenders collected the dead and attended to the wounded; and Desmond went into the house.

"G.o.d bless you, Mr. Burke!" said Mrs. Merriman, tears streaming from her eyes as she met him and clasped his hands. "You are not hurt?"

"Just a scratch or two, ma'am; nothing to trouble about."

But the ladies insisted on bathing the two slight wounds on head and arm which in the heat of the fight he had not noticed. And then Mrs.

Merriman told him all that had happened since the day he left them in such merry spirits at Khulna. How they had been trapped by Diggle, pretending to be a Monsieur de Bonnefon: how he had conveyed them to the house of his friend Sinfray: how after many months their whereabouts had been revealed to Surendra Nath by one of his numerous relatives, a man who had a distant cousin among Sinfray's servants: how the Babu, displaying unwonted energy, had come with a number of friends and fallen unawares upon their captors, afterwards taking them to a house of his father's in this village: how the old man and his son had both been stricken with jungle fever and the father died, and when the Babu lay helpless and unconscious on his sick bed they had found no means of communicating with their friends. Mrs. Merriman shuddered as she spoke of the terrors of their captivity. They had been well treated, indeed; Monsieur de Bonnefon, or Diggle, as she afterwards learned to call him, had visited them several times and seen that their wants were supplied.

But their enforced seclusion and inactivity, their dread of the unknown, their uncertainty as to what might have befallen Mr. Merriman, had told heavily upon their health and spirits. Rumour brought news of the tragedy of the Black Hole: they heard that the few survivors were prisoners of the Nawab, and they feared the worst. From Surendra Nath they learnt that they need not despair; and since then they had lived on in the hope that when the Babu had recovered from his illness, he would find some means of restoring them to the husband and father from whom they had so long been parted.

"Surendra Nath has a heart of gold, Mr. Burke," said Mrs. Merriman in concluding her story. "Poor man! he has been very ill. We must do something to show our grat.i.tude for his devotion when we get back to Calcutta."

Desmond then in his turn told them all that had happened since their disappearance. When they learnt of the result of the battle of Pla.s.sey and that Clive was marching towards Murs.h.i.+dabad, they were eager to set off at once.

"Yes, ma'am," said Desmond, "we will start as soon as we can. I will leave you to make your preparations. It may not be possible to start before night, the country being so disturbed, so that if you can sleep through the day you will be fitter for the journey."

He left them, and going into the compound found Bulger and Toley looking with curiosity at the body of Diggle.

"Hi, sir!" said Bulger as Desmond came up to them; "this here bit o'

velvet is explained at last. Mr. Toley he slit it with his cutla.s.s, sir, and never did I see a man so down in the mouth when he knowed what was under it. Ten't nothing at all, sir; just three letters; and what for he went and burnt them three letters into the back of his hand 'twould beat a Daniel to explain. 'Fur,' sir, that's what they spells; but whether 'tis rabbit-skin or fox I can't say, though 'tis most likely fox, knowin' the man."

Desmond stooped and looked at the unclad right hand. The letters FUR were branded livid below the knuckles.

"He was always quoting Latin, Bulger," he said. "Fur is a Latin word: it means 'thief'."

"Which I might have knowed it, sir, only I think as how the man what did the stampin' might have done it in plain English. I don't hold with these foreign lingos, sir; there allers seems something sly and deceivin' about 'em. No right man 'ud ever think 'fur' meant 'thief'!

Thief an' all, sir, he's dead. Mr. Toley and me 'll put him away decent like: and it won't do him no harm if we just says 'Our Father' over the grave."

Desmond was turning away when three of his men came into the compound, two grasping a Frenchman by the arms, the third a black boy. The former Desmond recognized as the man whom he had seen expostulating with Diggle; the latter was Scipio Africa.n.u.s, looking scared and miserable.

The men explained that, pursuing the fugitives, they had captured their prisoners in the grove. The Frenchman at once addressed Desmond in broken English. He said that he had tried in vain to dissuade Diggle from his attempt to capture the ladies. The party had been sent by Monsieur Law to announce his coming. He was advancing from Patna with a considerable body of French troops designed for the support of the Nawab. As he was speaking the Frenchman caught sight of Diggle's exposed hand. He started, with an exclamation of surprise. Then in answer to Desmond's question he revealed the secret that had so long perplexed him.

Seven years before, he said, in December, 1750, there was a brilliant foreigner named Peloti among the officers of Major de la Touche, a young soldier who had been singled out by Dupleix, the French Governor of Pondicherry, as a military genius of the first order. Peloti was with the French army when, less than 4,000 in number, it fell upon the vast hordes of Nadir Jang near Gingi, and won the battle that set Muzaffar Jang on the throne of the Dekkan and marked the zenith of Dupleix's success. The new Nawab, in grat.i.tude to the French for the services rendered him, sent to Dupleix a present of a million rupees, and a casket of jewels worth half as much again. This casket was given to Peloti to deliver: he had abused his trust by abstracting the gem of the collection, a beautiful diamond; and the theft being accidently discovered, Dupleix in his rage ordered the thief to be branded on the right hand with the word 'fur,' and drummed him out of the French employment. For some years nothing more had been seen of Peloti; but he had recently returned, and offered his services to Bussy, the French commander in the Dekkan. He brought with him valuable information, gained in London, of the East India Company's intentions; and this, together with his evident knowledge of Clive's movements and of affairs in Calcutta, had caused his former offence to be overlooked, and his offer was accepted.

Desmond thanked the Frenchman for his information. "I am sorry to keep you a prisoner, monsieur," he said; "but I must trouble you to return with me to Murs.h.i.+dabad. I can promise you good treatment from Colonel Clive."

The Frenchman smiled, shrugged, and exclaimed: "Eh bien! a la guerre comme a la guerre!"

Remembering Coja Solomon, Desmond asked Toley to search Diggle's body before burying it. But nothing was found, except a little money. The Armenian's property had evidently been left under guard in the grove, and was doubtless by this time far away, in the possession of one or other of Diggle's runagate followers.

Desmond was collecting his party, preparatory to starting for Murs.h.i.+dabad, when a native horseman rode into the village at full speed, dismounted, and, humbly salaaming, announced that he had a message from Law Sahib. It was clear that, seeing Europeans, he supposed them to be Frenchmen. Desmond did not undeceive him. The man said that Law Sahib had received news of Clive Sahib's victory at Pla.s.sey, and, seeing that his promised a.s.sistance to the Nawab was too late, had at once retired to Patna and wished Diggle Sahib to rejoin him there. Dismissing the messenger, Desmond rejoiced that there was no reason now to delay his departure; his mission for Clive was fulfilled.

At nightfall the party set off. Closed chairs had been provided for the ladies, and these were carried in the midst, Bulger on one side, Toley on the other, and Desmond behind. One person whom Desmond had expected to take with him was absent: Scipio Africa.n.u.s, on seeing the dead body of his master, had uttered one heart-rending howl and fled. No attempt was made to pursue him; and Desmond never saw him again. He reflected that, villainous as Diggle had proved to be, he had at least been able to win the affection of his servant.

On the way they met Coja Solomon, who, on learning of the disappearance of his valuables, heaped abuse upon Desmond and went away wringing his hands.

Travelling slowly, by easy stages, and only in the cooler hours, it took the party three days to reach Murs.h.i.+dabad. Desmond found that Clive had entered the city two days before and taken up his abode at the Murad Bagh. Mir Jafar had been accepted as Nawab, and nothing had been heard of Siraj-uddaula. Desmond first sought out Major Coote.

"By George, Burke!" said that officer, "Colonel Clive is in a towering rage at your long absence; he expected your return long ago. And you ought to know that Colonel Clive in a rage is not quite as mild as milk."

"I'm afraid I must brave his anger," said Desmond. "I've found Mr.

Merriman's ladies."

"You have?"

"Yes, and brought them back with me. And Peloti will trouble us no more: we had to fight for the ladies, and Bulger killed him. Won't Mr.

Clive forgive me?"

"I can't answer for Mr. Clive; no one can say what he will do. But I tell you one thing: you'll put Warren Hastings' nose out of joint. You knew he was sweet on Merriman's daughter?"

"No, I didn't know it. I don't see what that has to do with me."

"Don't you, egad!" said Coote with a laugh. "Sure, my boy, you'll see it before long. Well, I won't keep you to hear your story. Go to Mr.

Clive at once, and let me know what happens."

Desmond found Clive in company with Mr. Watts and Rai Durlabh, Mr.

Scrafton and Omichand. He had some difficulty in obtaining admittance; only his representation that he bore important news prevailed with the darwan. He learnt afterwards that the great bankers, the Seths, had just left the meeting, after it had been proved that, owing to the depletion of the treasury, only one half of the immense sums promised to Clive and the English in Mir Jafar's treaty could be paid at once, the remainder to follow in three years. Desmond entered the room just in time to hear Clive say to Scrafton:

"It is now time to undeceive Omichand."

Mr. Scrafton went up to the Sikh, and said quietly in Hindustani:

"Omichand, the red paper is a trick; you are to have nothing."

Omichand stood for a moment dazed: then he fell back in a faint and was carried by his attendants from the room. The shock had unhinged the poor man's reason: he lingered insane for eighteen months and died.

At the time Desmond knew nothing of the deceit that had been practised on him; but in the light of his after knowledge he understood the strange expression that clouded Clive's face as the old man was carried away: a look of pity mingled with contempt. Catching sight of Desmond, the great soldier flashed out:

"What do you mean, sir, by absenting yourself so long? I sent you in advance because I thought you would be speedy. A snail would have gone more quickly."

"I am sorry, sir," said Desmond. "I was unexpectedly delayed. I had got nearly as far as Rajmahal when I learnt the whereabouts of Mrs.

Merriman. She was in hiding with Surendra Nath, one of Mr. Merriman's men. I heard that Diggle--Peloti, sir--was about to attempt her recapture, and I felt that you yourself, had you been in my place, would have tried to save the ladies."

Clive grunted. "Go on, sir," he said.

"We found the place, just in time, sir. Diggle came up with a couple of Frenchmen and a troop of native horse. We beat them off, and I have brought the ladies here."