The two Bengalis who had been to Chinsura returned before they were expected.  They had been alarmed by the uproar.  As soon as they were aboard Desmond decided to drop a mile or two farther down the river.  The boat coming to a ghat below Chandernagore, the serang ordered the men to pull in, and tied up for the night.

In the morning the Bengalis were despatched on some errand along the bank, and the coast being clear Desmond went with the serang to the wounded man to learn particulars of the escape.  The Bengali had now almost wholly recovered, and was very voluble in his gratitude for his rescue.  Happening to glance towards the bank, he suddenly uttered an exclamation of fear, and begged the serang with frantic waving of the hands to leave the spot at once.

“Why, O brother, this fear?” asked Hossain.

“I will tell you.  It is a great fear.  Just before the coming of the rains I was at Khulna.  There I was hired by the head serang of a lady traveling to Calcutta.  She was the wife of a burra sahib of the great Company, and with her was her daughter.  All went well until we came near Chandernagore; we struck a snag; the boat sprang a leak; we feared the bibis would be drowned.  We rowed to this very ghat; a sahib welcomed the ladies; they went into his house yonder.  Presently he sent for us; we lodged with his servants; but in the night we were set upon, bound, and carried to Hugli.  False witnesses accused us of being dacoits; we were condemned; and I was confined with others in the prison.

“Always since then have I looked for a chance of escape.  It came at last.  Some of the jailers went last night to the tamasha at Chinsura.  I stole out and got away.  A sentry fired upon me, and hit me; but I am a good swimmer and I plunged into the river.  You know all that happened then, O serang, and I beseech you leave this place; it is a dreadful place; some harm will come to us all.”

Desmond’s knowledge of Bengali was as yet slight, and he caught only portions of the man’s narrative.  But he understood enough to convince him that he was at last on the track of the missing ladies; and when, shortly afterwards, Hossain gave him in Urdu the whole of the story, he determined at once to act on the information.

On the return of the two Bengalis, he arranged with the serang to set them at work on some imaginary repairs to the boat:  that pretext for delay was as good as another.  Then, Hossain having reassured the fugitive, he himself landed and made his way up to the house.

It was closed.  There was no sign of its being inhabited.  But about a hundred yards from the gate Desmond saw a basti {block of native huts}, and from one of the huts smoke was issuing.  He sauntered up.  Before the door, lolling in unstudied dishabille, squatted a bearded, turbaned Mohammedan, whom from his rotundity Desmond guessed to be the khansaman of the big house.

“Salaam aleikam {peace be with you!}, khansaman!” said Desmond suavely.  “Pardon the curiosity of an ignorant sailor from Gujarat.  What nawab owns the great house yonder?”