In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for IndiaStrang, Herbert
History
In Clive's Command: A Story of the Fight for India
Strang, Herbert
Clive, Robert Clive, Baron, 1725-1774 -- Fiction; India -- History -- British occupation, 1765-1947 -- Fiction
Could he not force matters, Desmond wondered? It was evidently to be a
contest, whether of wits or physical strength, between himself and the
Gujarati. Without one or other the vessel could not be safely navigated;
if he could in some way overcome the ringleader, he felt pretty sure that
the crew would accept the result and all difficulty would be at an end.
But how could he gain so unmistakable an ascendancy? In physical strength
Fuzl Khan was more than his match: there was no doubt of the issue of a
struggle if it were a matter of sheer muscular power.
For a moment he thought of attempting to enlist the Marathas on his side.
They were Hindus; the Gujarati was a Muslim; and they must surely feel
that, once he was among his co-religionists in Cutch, in some pirate
stronghold, they would run a very poor chance of getting fair treatment.
But he soon dismissed the idea. The Gujarati must seem to them much more
formidable than the stripling against whom he was plotting. The Hindu,
even more than the average human being elsewhere, is inclined to attach
importance to might and bulk--even to mere fat. If he sounded the
Marathas, and, their fear of the Gujarati outweighing their inevitable
distrust of him as a Firangi, they betrayed him to curry a little favor,
there was no doubt that the fate both of himself and the Babu would
instantly be decided. He must trust to himself alone.
While he was still anxiously debating the matter with himself his eye
caught the two muskets lashed to the wooden framework supporting the
wheel. He must leave no hostages to fortune. Taking advantage of a lull
in the wind he steadied the wheel with his body, and with some difficulty
drew the charges and dropped them into the sea. If it came to a tussle
the enemy would certainly seize the muskets; it would be worth something
to Desmond to know that they were not loaded. It was, in truth, but a
slight lessening of the odds against him; and as he restored the weapons
to their place he felt once more how hopeless his position remained.
Thus pondering and puzzling, with no satisfaction, he spent the full
period of his term of duty. At the appointed time Fuzl Khan came to
relieve him. It was now full daylight; but, scanning the horizon with a
restless eye, Desmond saw no sign of land, nor the sail of any vessel.
"No land yet, sahib?" said the Gujarati, apparently in surprise.
"No, as you see."
"But you set the course by the stars, sahib?"
"Oh, yes; the grab must have been going slower than we imagined."
"The wind has not shifted?"
"Very little. I have had to tack several times."
The man grunted, and looked at Desmond, frowning suspiciously, but
Desmond met his glance boldly, and said, as he left to go below:
"Be sure and have me called the moment you sight land."
He went below, threw himself into his hammock, and being dead tired, was
soon fast asleep.
Some hours later he was called by the Babu.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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