"Is any one hurt?" asked Desmond.
"One of the rowers has a broken arm, sahib," replied Shaik Abdullah.
"And I have a contusion of the nose," said the Babu lugubriously.
It was impossible to do anything for the sufferers at the moment. It was
still touch-and-go with the whole party. The shots from the fort were now
beginning to fall short, but, for all Desmond knew, boats might have been
launched in pursuit, and if he was overtaken it meant lingering torture
and a fearful death. He was in a fever of impatience until at length, the
tangled shrouds having been cut away, the rowing was resumed and the two
vessels began again to creep slowly seaward.
Gradually they drew out of range of the guns. Steering straight out to
sea, Desmond had a clear view of the whole of the harbor and a long
stretch of the river. The scene was brightly lit up, and he saw that two
of the gallivats had been towed away from the burning vessels, from which
the flames were now shooting high into the air. But even on the two that
had been cut loose there were spurts of flame; and Desmond hoped that
they had sustained enough damage to make them unseaworthy.
Suddenly there were two loud explosions, in quick succession. A column of
fire rose toward the sky from the gallivats that were blazing most
brightly. The fire had at length reached the ammunition. The red sparks
sprang upwards like a fountain, casting a ruddy glow for many yards
around; then they fell back into the sea, and all was darkness, except
for the lesser lights from the burning vessels whose magazines had as yet
escaped.
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