"Two or three miles south of Bombay, sahib." "Good. Run up the fore-topsail." He went to the wheel. "Thank you, serang. I will relieve you. Go forward and see that the men crowd on all sail." The mutiny had been snuffed out; the men went about their work quietly, with the look of whipped dogs; and barring accidents Desmond knew that before long he would make Bombay and be safe. With every stitch of canvas set, the vessel soon showed that she had the heels of her pursuers. Before she could draw clear, two of them came within range with their bow-chasers, and their shot whistled around somewhat too close to be comfortable. But she steadily drew ahead, and ere long it was seen that the four grabs were being hopelessly outpaced. They kept up the chase for the best part of an hour, but as they neared the British port they recognized that they were running into danger and had the discretion to draw off. Now that the pursuit was over Desmond ventured to steer due north-east, and the coast line became more distinctly visible. It was about two o’clock in the afternoon, judging by the height of the sun, when the serang, pointing shorewards, said: "There is Bombay, sahib." "You are sure?" "Yes; I know it by the cluster of palmyra trees. No one can mistake them." Moment by moment the town and harbour came more clearly into view. Desmond saw an extensive castle, a flag flying on its pinnacled roof, set amid a green mass of jungle and cocoa-nut forest, with a few Portuguese-built houses dotted here and there. In front a narrow jungle-clad island, called, as he afterwards learnt, Old Woman Island, stretched like a spit into the sea. To the south of the fort was the Bunder pier, with the warehouses at the shore end. Southward of these were the hospital and the doctor’s house overlooking the harbour, while hard by were the marine yard and the docks ensconced behind the royal bastion. Feeling that he had nothing more to fear, Desmond ordered Fuzl Khan to be cast loose and brought to him. The man wore a look of sullen surprise, which Desmond cheerfully ignored. "Now, Fuzl Khan," he said, "we are running into Bombay harbour. You know the channel?" The man grunted a surly affirmative. "Well, you will take the helm, and steer us in to the most convenient moorings."