elt no little curiosity about
his host's intentions.

One evening Desmond was sitting alone on the veranda, reading, awaiting
Mr. Merriman's return from a meeting of the Council to which he had been
hastily summoned. Hearing a footstep, he looked up, and was surprised to
see, instead of Mr. Merriman, as he expected, Bulger hastening up with an
air of excitement.

"Mr. Burke, sir, what d'you think I've seed? I could hardly believe my
own eyes. I was walkin' down towards the fort when I seed two men goin'
into a big house. They was Englishmen, leastways white men, and I may be
wrong, but I bet my boots one on 'em was that there soft-speakin' villain
Diggle."

"Diggle!" exclaimed Desmond, springing up. "You must be mistaken,
Bulger."

"I may be wrong, sir, but I never remembers any time when I was."

"What house did he go into?"

"That I can't tell you, sir, not bein' sure o' my bearin's."

"But you could point it out?"

"'Course I could. Rather. Just so."

"Then I'll came along with you, and you can show me. If it is Diggle, we
must have him arrested."

"True, an' I'll knot the rope for his neck."

"How long ago was this?"

"Not a quarter of an hour, sir. I comed up at once."

The two set off together. They quickly reached the house; Desmond
recognized it as Omichand's. The evening was closing in, but no lights
were visible through the chiks {hanging screens made of thin strips of
bamboo} that covered the windows. While Desmond was considering, two
figures stepped down from the veranda and walked rapidly across the
compound towards the gate in the wall.

At the first glance Desmond saw that Bulger had not been mistaken. The
taller of the two figures was disguised, but it was impossible to mistake
the gloved right hand. It was Diggle to a certainty.

"Are you game to capture them?" said Desmond.

Bulger grunted and gave a twist to his hook.

"I'll take Diggle," added Desmond: "you go for the other man."

They waited in the shadow of the wall. The gate opened, the two men came
out, and in an instant Desmond and his companion dashed forward. Taken by
surprise, the men had no time to defend themselves. With his left hand
Desmond caught at Diggle's sword arm, and, pointing his rapier at his
heart, said:

"You are my prisoner, Mr. Diggle."

At the same moment Bulger had caught the second man by the throat, and
raising his formidable hook, cried:

"Heave to, matey, or I'll spoil your mug for you."