e now; if he left the shelter of the palm tree he would
come distinctly into view of the two men, and it would be unwise to risk
anything that would delay his return to Clive. Accordingly he kept well
in the shadow and waited. The stealthy movements of the men suggested
that they were fugitives, eager to get away with whole skins before the
fort was stormed.

They came to the last of the palm trees within the wall, and paused there
for a brief space. A few yards of open ground separated them from the
gate. Desmond watched curiously, then with some anxiety, for it suddenly
struck him that the men were making for him, and that he had actually
been shadowed from his landing place by someone acting, strange as it
seemed, in collusion with them. On all accounts it was necessary to keep
close.

Suddenly he saw the men leave the shelter of their tree and run rapidly
across the ground to the gate. Having reached it, they turned aside into
the shadow of the wall and stood as if to recover breath. Desmond had
kept his eyes upon them all the time. Previously, in the shade of the
trees, their faces had not been clearly distinguishable; but while now
invisible from the fort, they were lit up by the glow from the harbor. It
was with a shock of surprise that he recognized in the fugitives the
overseer of the dockyard, whose cruelties he had so good reason to
remember, and Marmaduke Diggle, as he still must call him.

The sight of the latter set his nerves tingling; his fingers itched to
take some toll for the miseries he had endured through Diggle's villainy.
But he checked his impulse to rush forward and confront the man.
Single-handed he could not cope with both the fugitives; and though, if
he had been free, he might have cast all prudence from him in his longing
to bring the man to book, he recollected his duty to Clive and remained
in silent rage beneath the tree.

All at once he heard a rustle behind him, a low growl like that of an
animal enraged; and almost before he was aware of what was happening a
dark figure sprang past him, leaped over the ground with the rapidity of
a panther, and threw himself upon the overseer just as with Diggle he was
beginning to move towards the town. There was a cry from each man, and
the red light falling upon the face of the assailant, Desmond saw with
amazement that it was the Gujarati, whom he had supposed to be rowing
along the shore to meet him.

He had hardly recognized the man bef