Deftly dodging the man's blind rush, he planted his bare feet firmly and
threw his whole weight into a terrific body blow that sent the bigger man
with a thud to the deck. Panting, breathless, trembling with fury, Fuzl
Khan sprang to his feet, caught sight of the muskets, and tearing one
from its fastenings raised it to his shoulder.
Desmond seized the moment with a quickness that spoke volumes for his
will's absolute mastery of his body. As the man pulled the harmless
trigger, Desmond leaped at him; a crashing blow between the eyes sent him
staggering against the wheel; a second while he tottered brought him limp
and almost stunned to the deck.
Meanwhile the crew had looked on for a few breathless moments in
amazement at this sudden turn of affairs. But as the Gujarati fell
Desmond heard a noise behind him. Half turning, he saw Shaik Abdullah
rushing towards him with a marlinspike. The man had him at a
disadvantage, for he was breathless from his tussle with Fuzl Khan; but
at that moment a dark object hurtled through the air, striking this new
antagonist at the back of the head, and hurling him a lifeless lump into
the scuppers.
Desmond looked round in wonderment: who among the crew had thus
befriended him so opportunely? His wonder was not lessened when he saw
the Babu, trembling like a leaf, his eyes blazing, his dusky face
indescribably changed. At the sight of Desmond's peril the Bengali,
forgetting his weakness, exalted above his timidity, had caught up with
both hands a round nine-pounder shot that lay on deck, and in a sudden
strength of fury had hurled it at the Biluchi.
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