"Dressed like a native, was he? And looked like a risaldar {officer commanding a troop of horse}? There's no end to that fellow's villainy. But his day of reckoning will come; I am sure of it, and the world will be none the worse for the loss of so vile a creature. If you take my advice you'll say nothing to Mr. Merriman of this discovery. 'Twould only unsettle the poor man. He had better know nothing until we can either restore the ladies to him or tell him that there is no hope." "I don't give up hope, sir. They're alive, at any rate; and Diggle has lost them. I feel sure we shall find them." "God grant it, my lad." Chapter 27: In which an officer of the Nawab disappears; and Bulger reappears. "This will be my last trip, sahib, for my present master. He says I waste too much time on the river. He also complains that I go to places without leave and without reason. He heard we were at Mayapur, and wanted to know why. I made excuses, sahib; I said whatever came into my head; but he was not satisfied, and I leave his service in a week." "That is a pity, Hossain. Unless we are in the service of some well-known banya we cannot go up and down the river without exciting suspicion. However, let us hope that before the week is out the fleet will be here." Desmond looked a little anxious. The success of his project for preventing the fouling of the passage at Tanna Fort was more than ever doubtful. The petala was moored opposite the Crane ghat at Calcutta, taking in a cargo of jawar {millet} for Chandernagore. The work of loading had been protracted to the utmost by the serang; for Desmond did not wish to leave the neighborhood of Calcutta at the present juncture, when everything turned upon their being on the spot at the critical moment. While they were talking, a man who had every appearance of a respectable banya approached the plank over which the coolies were carrying the jawer on board. He stood idly watching the work, then moved away, and squatted on a low pile of bags which had been emptied of their contents. For a time the serang paid no apparent heed to him; but presently, while the coolies were still busy, he sauntered across the plank and strolling to the onlooker exchanged a salaam and squatted beside him. Passers by might have caught a word or two about the grain market; the high prices; the difficulties of transit; the deplorable slackness of trade; the infamous duplicity of the Greek merchants. At last the banya rose, salaamed, and walked away. As he did so the serang carelessly lifted the bag upon which the banya had been sitting, and, making sure that he was not observed, picked up a tiny ball of paper scarcely bigger than a pea. Waiting a few moments, he rose and sauntered back on board. A minute or two later the lascar in the after part of the boat was unobtrusively examining the scrap of paper. It contained three words and an initial: Tomorrow about ten.--C.