 casual inquiries,
that the gallivats were under a guard of ten men, the grabs of twenty.
These men were only relieved at intervals of three days; they slept on
board when the vessels were in harbor and the crews dispersed ashore.

In thinking over the difficult problem of escape, Desmond had found
himself in a state of perplexity somewhat similar to that of the man who
had to convey a fox and a goose and a bag of corn across a river in a
boat that would take but one at a time. He could not, with his small
party, man a gallivat, which required fifty oarsmen to propel it at
speed; while if he seized one of the lighter grabs, he would have no
chance whatever of outrunning the gallivats that would be immediately
launched in pursuit. It was this problem that had occupied him the whole
day during which Diggle had fondly imagined he was meditating on Angria's
offer of freedom.

A few moments after their five companions had left them, Desmond and the
Gujarati  climbed  with the agility of seamen along the ties of the
framework supporting the jetty, until they reached a spot a yard or two
from  the end. There, quite invisible from sea or land, they gently
lowered themselves into the water. Guided by the dim light which he had
noticed, and which he knew must proceed from one of the moored gallivats,
Desmond  struck out towards the farther end of the line of vessels,
swimming a noiseless breast stroke. Fuzl Khan followed him in equal
silence a length behind.

The water was warm, and a few minutes' steady swimming brought them
within twenty or thirty yards of the light. The hulls of the gallivats
and their tall raking spars could now be seen looming up out of the
blackness. Desmond perceived that the light was on the outermost of the
line, and, treading water for a moment, he caught the low hum of voices
coming from the after part of the gallivat. Striking out to the left,
still followed by the Gujarati, he swam along past the sterns of the
lashed vessels until he came under the side of the one nearest the shore.
He caught at the hempen cable, swarmed up it, and, the gallivat having
but little freeboard, soon reached the bulwark.

There he paused to recover his breath and to listen. Hearing nothing, he
quietly slipped over the side and lay on the main deck. In a few seconds
he was joined by his companion. In the shadow of the bulwarks the two
groped their way cautiously along the deck. Presently Desmond, who was in
front, struck his foot against some object invisible to him. There was a
grunt beneath him.

The two paused, Fuzl Khan nervously fingering the knife he had taken from
the sentinel on the bastion. The grunt was repeated; but the intruders
remained still as death, and with a sleepy grumble the man who had been
disturbed turned over on his charpoy, placed transversely across the
deck, and fell asleep.

All was quiet. Once more the two moved forward. They came to the ropes by
which the vessel was lashed to the next in the line. For a moment Desmond
stood irresolute; then he led the way swiftly and silently to the deck of
the adjacent gallivat, crossed it without mishap, and so across the
third. Fortunately both were sailors, accustomed to finding their way on
shipboard in the night, as much by sense of touch as by sight. Being
barefooted, only the sharpest ears, deliberately on the alert, could have
detected them.

They had now reached the fourth of the line of vessels. It was by far the
largest of the fleet, and for this reason Desmond had guessed that it
would have been chosen for his quarters by the serang {head of a crew} in
charge  of  the watch. If he could secure this man he felt that his
hazardous enterprise would be half accomplished. This was indeed the
pivot on which the whole scheme turned, for in no other way would it be
possible to seize the ten men on board the gallivats without raising such
an alarm as must shock fort, city, and harbor to instant activity. And it
was necessary to Desmond's plan, not only to secure the serang, but to
secure him alive.

The gallivat was Angria's own vessel, used in his visits up river to his
country house, and, during calm weather, in occasional excursions to
Suwarndrug and the other forts on the sea coast. As Desmond was aware, it
boasted a large state cabin aft, and he thought it very probable that the
serang had appropriated this for his watch below.

Pausing a moment as they reached the vessel to make sure that no one was
stirring, Desmond and Fuzl Khan crept on to its deck and threw themselves
down, again listening intently. From the last vessel of the line came the
sound of low voices, accompanied at intervals by the click of the oblong
bone dice with which the men were gambling. This was a boon, for when the
Indian, a born gambler, is engaged in one of his games of chance, he is
oblivious of all else around him. But on Angria's gallivat there was no
sound. Rising to a crouching position, so that his form could not be seen
if any of the gamblers chanced to look in his direction, Desmond slowly
crept aft, halting at every few steps to listen. Still there was no
sound.

But all at once he caught sight of a faint glow ahead; what was it? For a
few seconds he was puzzled. As he approached, the glow took shape; he saw
that it was the entrance to the cabin, the sliding door being half open.
Creeping to the darker side, careful not to come within the radius of the
light, he stood erect, and again listened. From within came the snores of
a sleeper. Now he felt sure that his guess had been correct, for none but
the serang would dare to occupy the cabin, and even he would no doubt
have cause to tremble if his presumption should come to the Pirate's
ears.

Keeping his body as much in the shadow as possible, Desmond craned his
head forward and peeped into the cabin. He could see little or nothing;
the light came from a small oil lantern with its face turned to the wall.
Made of some vegetable substance, the oil gave off a pungent smell. The
lantern was no doubt carried by the serang in his rounds of inspection;
probably he kept it within reach at night; he must be sleeping in the
black shadow cast by it. To locate a sound is always difficult; but, as
far as Desmond could judge, the snores came from the neighborhood of the
lantern and as from the floor.

He stepped back again into complete darkness. The Gujarati was at his
elbow.

"Wait, Fuzl Khan," said Desmond in the lowest of whispers. "I must go in
and see where the man is and how the cabin is arranged."

The Gujarati crouched in the shadow of the bulwarks. Desmond, dropping on
hands and knees, crawled slowly forward into the cabin towards the light.
It was slightly above him, probably on a raised divan--the most likely
place for the serang to choose as his bed. In a few moments Desmond's
outstretched fingers touched the edge of the little platform; the light
was still nearly two yards away. Still he was unable to see the sleeper,
though by the sound of his breathing he must be very near.

Desmond feared that every moment might bring him into contact with the
man. Whatever the risk, it was necessary to obtain a little more light.
Slightly raising himself he found that, without actually mounting the
platform, he could just reach the lamp with outstretched fingers. Very
slowly he pushed it round, so that the light fell more directly into the
room. Then he was able to see, about four feet away, curled up on the
divan, with his arms under his head, the form of a man. There was no
other in the cabin. Having discovered all that he wished to know, Desmond
crawled backward as carefully as he had come.

At the moment of discovery he had felt the eager boy's impulse to spring
upon the sleeper at once, but although his muscles had been hardened by a
year of toil he doubted whether he had sufficient physical strength to
make absolutely sure of his man; a single cry, the sound of a scuffle,
might be fatal. The Gujarati, on the other hand, a man of great bulk,
could be trusted to overpower the victim by sheer weight, and with his
iron clutch to insure that no sound came from him. Desmond's only fear
indeed was that the man, as in the case of the sentinel on the bastion,
might overdo his part and give him all too thorough a quietus.

