The ships remained at anchor outside the harbor during the night.  Next morning a boat put off from the town end of the fort conveying several of Angria’s relatives and some officers of Ramaji Punt’s army.  It by and by became known that Tulaji Angria, leaving his brother in charge of the fort, had given himself up to Ramaji Punt, and was now a prisoner in his camp.  The visitors had come ostensibly to view the squadron, but really to discover what were Admiral Watson’s intentions in regard to the disposal of the fort, supposing it fell into his hands.  The admiral saw through the device, which was no doubt to hand the fort over to the Peshwa’s general, and so balk the British of their legitimate prize.

Admiral Watson made short work of the visitors.  He told them that if Angria would surrender his fort peaceably he and his family would be protected; but that the fort he must have.  They pleaded for a few days’ grace, but the admiral declined to wait a single day.  If the fort was not immediately given up he would sail in and attack it.

It was evident that hostilities could not be avoided.  About one in the afternoon Captain Henry Smith of the Kingfisher sloop was ordered to lead the way, and Desmond was sent to join him.

“What is the depth under the walls, Mr. Burke?” the captain asked him.

“Three and a half fathoms, sir—­deep enough to float the biggest of us.”

The sloop weighed anchor, and stood in before the afternoon breeze.  It was an imposing sight as the fleet formed in two divisions and came slowly in their wake.  Each ship covered a bomb ketch, protecting the smaller vessels from the enemy’s fire.  Desmond himself was kept very busy, going from ship to ship as ordered by signals from the Kent, and assisting each captain in turn to navigate the unfamiliar harbor.

It was just two o’clock when the engagement began with a shot from the fort at the Kingfisher.  The shot was returned, and a quarter of an hour later, while the fleet was under full sail, the Kent flew the signal for a general action.  One by one the vessels anchored at various points opposite the fortifications, and soon a hundred and fifty guns were blazing away at the massive bastions and curtains, answered vigorously by Angria’s two hundred and fifty.

Desmond was all excitement.  The deafening roar of the guns, the huge columns of smoke that floated heavily over the fort, and sometimes enveloped the vessels, the bray of trumpets, the beating of tom toms, the shouts of men, set his blood tingling:  and though he afterwards witnessed other stirring scenes, he never forgot the vivid impression of the fight at Gheria.

About three o’clock a shell set fire to one of the Pirate’s grabs—­one that had formerly been taken by him from the Company.  Leaving its moorings, it drifted among the main pirate fleet of grabs which still lay lashed together where Desmond had last seen them by the blaze of the burning gallivats.  They were soon alight.  The fire spread rapidly to the dockyard, caught the unfinished grabs on the stocks, and before long the whole of Angria’s shipping was a mass of flame.