The captain growled his disappointment. Nearly a
dozen of the coast craft, as they were now clearly seen to be, went in
pursuit, but with little chance of coming up with the chase. The
remaining vessels of the newly-arrived fleet stood out to meet the Good
Intent.
"Fetch us that Maratha fellow," cried the captain, "and hoist a white
flag."
When the Maratha appeared, a pitiable object, emaciated for want of food,
Captain Barker bade him shout as soon as the newcomers came within
hailing distance. The white flag at the masthead, and a loud, long-drawn
hail from Hybati, apprised the grab that the Good Intent was no enemy,
and averted hostilities. And thus it was, amid a convoy of Angria's own
fleet, that Captain Barker's vessel, a few hours later, sailed peacefully
into the harbor of Gheria.
Desmond looked with curious eyes on the famous fort and harbor. On the
right, as the Good Intent entered, he saw a long, narrow promontory, at
the end of which was a fortress, constructed, as it appeared, of solid
rock. The promontory was joined to the mainland by a narrow isthmus of
sand, beyond which lay an open town of some size. The shore was fringed
with palmyras, mangoes and other tropical trees, and behind the straw
huts and stone buildings of the town leafy groves clothed the sides of a
gentle hill.
The harbor, which forms the mouth of a river, was studded with Angria's
vessels, large and small, and from the docks situated on the sandy
isthmus came the busy sound of shipwrights at work.
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