"'Tis pretty plain what it is," said Desmond somewhat hotly; "we have
been set upon by these six ruffians."
The newcomer motioned with his hand, and the men slunk away.
"I regret, sahib. The men are badmashes; Calcutta is unhappily in a
disturbed state."
"Badmashes or not, they came from your house--if this is your house."
"It is my house, sahib. My name is Omichand. I must inquire how the
badmashes came to be in my compound. I fear my darwan {doorkeeper} is at
fault."
"And what about the two men?"
"The two men, sahib?"
"Yes, the two Europeans who came first from the house, and were protected
by these ruffians?"
"You must be mistaken, sahib. English sahibs do not visit at the houses
of Indian gentlemen. If the sahib had been longer in Calcutta he would
know that."
A smile flickered on the Indian's face, but it was gone instantly.
Desmond was nonplussed. It was useless to contradict the merchant; he was
clearly not disposed to give any information; Diggle was gone. All he
could do was to return and report the matter to Mr. Merriman.
"Come along, Bulger," he said, with an unceremonious gesture to Omichand.
"We can do no good here."
"The old Ananias!" growled Bulger, as they walked away. "What in thunder
is Diggle's game here? I'd give a year's 'baccy to have a chanst o' usin'
my hook on him."
Mr. Merriman looked grave when he heard what had happened.
"To think of that villain once more escaping our clutches! The other
fellow was a Frenchman, you say? There's mischief brewing.
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