age from the fort for him."

Owing to the trend of the shore, the gallivat had been slowly nearing the
walls of the fort, and at this moment could not be more than a hundred
and fifty yards distant from them. But for the shouting on shore the
noise of the sweeps must by this time have been heard. In the glow of the
blazing vessels in mid channel the moving gallivat had almost certainly
been seen. Desmond grew more and more anxious.

"Hail the grab," he said to the serang as the vessel loomed up ahead.

"Hai, hai, Tremukji!" cried the man.

There came an answering hail. Then the serang hesitated; he was evidently
wondering whether even now he might not defy this foreigner who was
bearding his terrible master. But his hesitation was short. At a sign
from Desmond, Gulam the Biluchi, who had brought the serang forward,
applied the point of his knife to the back of the unfortunate man's neck.

"I have a message from Angria Rho," he cried quickly. "Come aboard at
once."

The rowers at a word from Fuzl Khan shipped their oars, and the two
vessels came together with a sharp thud. The serang in charge of the grab
vaulted across the bulwarks and fell into the waiting arms of Fuzl Khan,
who squeezed his throat, muttered a few fierce words in his ear, and
handed him over to Gulam, who bundled him below. Then, shouting the order
to make fast, the Gujarati flung a hawser across to the grab. The two men
on board her obeyed without question; but they were still at the work
when Desmond and Fuzl Khan, followed by the two Mysoreans, leaped upon
them from the deck of the gallivat. There was a short sharp scrimmage;
then these guardians of the grab were hauled on to the gallivat and sent
to join the rowers on the main deck.

Desmond and his six companions now had fourteen prisoners on their hands,
and in ordinary circumstances the disproportion would have been fatal.
But the captives, besides having been deprived of all means of offense,
had no exact knowledge of the exact number of men who had trapped them.
Their fears and the darkness had a magnifying effect, and, like Falstaff,
they would have sworn that their enemies were ten times as many as they
actually were.

So deeply engrossed had Desmond been in the capture of the grab that he
had forgotten the one serious danger that threatened to turn the tide of
accident, hitherto so favorable, completely against him. He had forgotten
the burning gallivats. But now his attention was r