When day broke over the hills, Desmond guessed that the coast must be now five miles off. As far as he could see, it ran north by east. He had now plenty of sea-room; there was no pursuer in sight; the wind was in his favour, and if it held, no vessel in Angria’s harbour could now catch him. He called to the Gujarati, who shouted an order to the Biluchis; the worn-out men on the benches ceased rowing, except four, who pulled a few strokes every now and again to prevent the two vessels from colliding. Desmond had thought at first of stopping the rowing altogether and running the grab alongside the gallivat; but that course, while safe enough in the still water of the harbour, would have its dangers in the open sea. So, lashing the helm of the grab, he dropped into a small boat which had been bumping throughout the night against the vessel’s side, and in a few minutes was on board the gallivat. He first inquired after the men who had been wounded in the night. One had a broken arm, which no one on board knew how to set. The Babu had certainly a much discoloured nose, the contusion having been caused no doubt by a splinter of wood thrown up by the shot. Two or three of the rowers had slight bruises and abrasions, but none had been killed and none dangerously hurt. Then Desmond had a short and earnest talk with the Gujarati, who alone of the men had sufficient seamanship to make him of any value in deciding upon the next move. "What is to be done with the gallivat?" asked Desmond. "Scuttle her, sahib, and hoist sail on the grab." "But the rowers?" "Fasten them to the benches and let them drown. They could not help our enemies then, and it would make up for what you and I and all of us have suffered in Gheria." "No, I can’t do that," said Desmond. "It must be as I say, sahib. There is nothing else to do. We have killed no one yet, except the sentinel on the parapet; I did that neatly, the sahib will agree; I would have a life for every lash of the whip upon my back." "No," said Desmond decisively, "I will not drown the men. We will take on board the grab three or four, who must be sailors; let us ask who will volunteer. We will promise them good pay; we haven’t any money, to be sure, but the grab can be sold when we reach Bombay, and though we stole her I think everybody would admit that she is our lawful prize. I should think they’ll be ready enough to volunteer, for they won’t care to return to Gheria and face Angria’s rage. At the same time we can’t take more than three or four, because in the daylight they can now see how few we are, and they might take a fancy to recapture the grab. What do you think of that plan?" The Gujarati sullenly assented. He did not understand mercy to an enemy. "There is no need to pay them, sahib," he said. "You can promise pay; a promise is enough." Desmond was unwilling to start an argument and said nothing. Once in Bombay he could ensure that any pledges given would be strictly kept.