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
Officers and men listened intently. The creaking grew no louder; on the
contrary, it gradually became fainter, and at last died away. There was a
long silence, broken only by what sounded like a low hail some
considerable distance away.
"They're musterin' the boats," said Bulger, with a chuckle. "I may be
wrong, but I'll bet my breeches they find they've overshot the mark. Now
they'll scatter and try to nose us out."
Another hour of anxious suspense slowly passed, and still nothing had
happened. Then suddenly a blue light flashed for a few moments on the
blackness of the sea, answered almost instantaneously by a rocket from
another quarter. It was clear that the boats, having signaled that the
search had failed, had been recalled by the rocket to the fleet.
"By thunder, Mr. Toley, you've done the trick!" said the captain.
"I guess we don't get our living by making mistakes--not in Salem,
Massachusetts," returned the first mate with his sad smile.
Through the night the watch was kept with more than ordinary vigilance,
but nothing occurred to give Captain Barker anxiety. With morning light
the enemy could be seen far astern.
Chapter 10: In which our hero arrives in the Golden East, and Mr. Diggle
presents him to a native prince.
About midday a light breeze sprang up from the northwest. The two
Indiamen and the uninjured grab, being the first to catch it, gained a
full mile before the Good Intent, under topgallant sails, studding sails,
royal and driver, began to slip through the water at her best speed. But,
as the previous day's experience had proved, she was no match in sailing
capacity for the pursuers. They gained on her steadily, and the grab had
come almost within cannon range when the man at the masthead shouted:
"Sail ho! About a dozen sail ahead, sir!"
The captain spluttered out a round dozen oaths, and his dark face grew
still darker. So many vessels in company must surely mean the king's
ships with a convoy. The French, so far as Captain Barker knew, had no
such fleet in Indian waters, nor had the Dutch or Portuguese. If they
were indeed British men-o'-war he would be caught between two fires, for
there was not a doubt that they would support the Company's vessels.
"We ought to be within twenty miles of the coast, Mr. Toley," said
Captain Barker.
"Ay, sir, and somewhere in the latitude of Gheria."
"Odds bobs, and now I come to think of it, those there vessels may be
sailing to attack Gheria, seeing as how, as these niggers told us,
they've bust up Suwarndrug."
"Guess I'll get to the foretop myself and take a look, sir," said Mr.
Toley.
He mounted, carrying the only perspective glass the vessel possessed. The
captain watched him anxiously as he took a long look.
"What do you make of 'em?" he shouted.
The mate shut up the telescope and came leisurely down.
"I count fifteen in all, sir."
"I don't care how many. What are they?"
"I calculate they're grabs and gallivats, sir."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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