pidly
towards the bows, and in a low tone hailed the lookout, whispering him a
summons to join the Gujarati at the helm. The lookout, one of the
Marathas, left his post; he came aft with the messenger, and both passing
on the same side of the vessel, Desmond by dodging round the mast escaped
their notice.

At the best, the action of Fuzl Khan was a dereliction of duty; at the
worst!--Desmond could not put his suspicions into words. It was clear
that something was afoot, and he resolved to find out what it was. Very
cautiously he followed the two men. Bending low, and keeping under the
shadow of the bulwarks, he crept to within a few feet of the almost
invisible group. A friendly coil of rope near the taffrail gave him
additional cover; but the night was so dark that he ran little risk of
being perceived so long as the men remained stationary. He himself could
barely see the tall form of the Gujarati dimly outlined against the sky.

Chapter 16: In which a mutiny is quelled in a minute; and our Babu proves
himself a man of war.

Crouching low, Desmond waited. When the Maratha joined the groups Fuzl
Khan addressed him directly in a low firm tone.

"We are all agreed, Nanna," he said. "You are the only man wanting to our
purpose. This is the fastest grab on the coast. I know a port where we
can get arms and ammunition; with a few good men (and I know where they
can be found), we can make a strong band, and grow rich upon our spoils."

"But what about the sahib?"

"Wah! We know what these Firangi are like--at least the Angrezi
{English}. They have the heads of pigs: there is no moving them. It would
be vain to ask the young sahib to join us; his mind is set on getting to
Bombay and telling all his troubles to the Company. What a folly! And
what an injustice to us! It would destroy our chance of making our
fortunes, for what would happen? The grab would be sold; the sahib would
take the most of the price; we should get a small share, not enough to
help us to become rovers of the sea and our own masters."

"The sahib will refuse, then. So be it! But what then shall we do with
him?"

"He will not get the chance of refusing. He will not be told."

"But he is taking us to Bombay. How then can we work our will?"

"He thinks he is sailing to Bombay: he will really take us to Cutch."

"How that, brother?"

"Does he know Bombay? Of a truth no. He is a boy, he has never sailed
these seas. He depends on us. S