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.
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