not venture far out to sea, but neither dared he hug the shore too closely.  He knew not what reefs there might be lying in wait for his untaught keel.  Besides, he might be sighted from one or other of the coast strongholds still remaining in Angria’s hands, and it was not impossible that swift messengers had already been sent along the shore from Gheria, prescribing a keen lookout and the chase of any solitary grab making northward.

But if he kept too far out he might run past Bombay, though when he mentioned this to his fellow fugitives he was assured by the Biluchis and Fuzl Khan that they would unfailingly recognize the landmarks, having more than once in the course of their trading and pirate voyages touched at that port.

On the whole he thought it best to keep the largest possible offing that would still leave the coast within sight.  Putting the helm down he ran out some eight or ten miles, until the coast was visible only from the masthead as a purple line on the horizon, with occasional glimpses of high ghats {mountains} behind.

Meanwhile the Gujarati and some of the others had breakfasted from their bundles.  Leaving the former in charge of the wheel, Desmond took his well-earned meal of rice and chapatis, stale, but sweet with the sweetness of freedom.

In his ignorance of the coast he felt that he must not venture to run into Bombay in the darkness, and resolved to heave-to during the night.  At the dawn he would creep in towards the shore without anxiety, for there was little chance of falling in with hostile vessels in the immediate neighborhood of Bombay.  Knowing that a considerable British fleet lay there, the Pirate would not allow his vessels to cruise far from his own strongholds.  But as there was a prospect of spending at least one night at sea, it was necessary to establish some system of watches.  The task of steering had to be shared between Desmond and Fuzl Khan; and the majority of the men being wholly inexperienced, it was not safe to leave fewer than six of them on duty at a time.  The only danger likely to arise was from the weather.  So far it was good; the sea was calm, the sky was clear; but Desmond was enough of a seaman to know that, being near the coast, the grab might at any moment, almost without warning, be struck by a squall.  He had to consider how best to divide up his crew.

Including himself there were eleven men on board.  Four of them were strangers of whom he knew nothing; the six who had escaped with him were known only as fellow prisoners.

To minimize any risk, he divided the crew into three watches.  One consisted of the Babu, the serang, and one of the Marathas from the gallivat.  Each of the others comprised a Mysorean, a Biluchi, and a Maratha.  Thus the strangers were separated as much as possible, and the number of Marathas on duty was never in excess of the number of fugitives; the steersman, Desmond or the Gujarati, as the case might be, turned the balance.