Hitherto Desmond had kept himself in the background. But now he had an idea inspired by confidence in his costume. Introducing himself to the gumashta, he asked him to give out that the party was in command of a Firangi in the service of the Nawab, and was conveying part of the Nawab’s private equipage in advance to Baraset, a few miles north of Calcutta, there to await the arrival of the main army. To make the imposition more effective, he called for the lambadar[#] of the village and ordered him in the Nawab’s name to despatch a flotilla of twenty-five wollacks[#] to Cutwa to convey the official baggage. The plan proved successful. Desmond found himself regarded as a person of importance; the natives humbly salaamed to him; and, taking matters with a high hand, he impressed a score of the village idlers into the work of transferring his precious bales from the boats to the hackeris. The work was accomplished in half an hour. [#] Headman. [#] Barges. "Bulger," said Desmond, when the loading was done, "you will consider yourself in charge of this convoy. The Babu will interpret for you. You will hurry on as fast as possible towards Calcutta. I shall overtake you by and by. The people here believe that I am a Frenchman, so you had better pass as that too, for of course your disguise will deceive no native in the daylight." "Well I knows it," said Bulger. "They’ve been starin’ at me like as if I was a prize pig this half-hour and more, and lookin’ most uncommon curious at my little button-hook. But, sir, I don’t see any call for me to make out I’m a mounseer. ’T’ud make me uneasy inside, sir, the very thought of eatin’ what they mounseers eat." "My good man, there’s no need to carry it too far. Do as you please, only take care of the goods." Except Desmond and four men whom he retained, the whole party moved off with the hackeris towards Calcutta. The road was an unmade track, heavy with dust, rough, execrably bad; and at the gumashta’s suggestion Desmond had arranged for three extra teams of oxen to accompany the carts, to extricate them in case of necessity from holes or soft places. Fortunately the weather was dry: had the rains begun--and they were overdue--the road would have been a slough of mud and ooze, and the journey would have been impossible. When the convoy had set off, Desmond with three men, including the serang, returned to the empty boats. The lookers-on stared to see the craft put off and drop down the river with a crew of one man each: Desmond in the first, and the smaller boat that had contained Bulger and his party trailing behind. Floating down some four or five miles with the stream, Desmond gave the order to scuttle the three petalas, and rowed ashore in the smaller boat. On reaching land he got the serang to knock a hole in the bottom of the boat, and shoved it off towards mid stream, where it rapidly filled and sank.