Clive was so much disgusted with Omichand’s double dealing that, though he was ready to make him fair compensation for his losses in Calcutta, he was not inclined to accede to his impudent demand.  Yet it would be dangerous to refuse him point blank.  He therefore descended to a trick which, whatever may be urged in its defense—­the proved treachery of Omichand, the customs of the country, the utter want of scruple shown by the natives in their dealings—­must ever remain a blot on a great man’s fame.

Two treaties with Mir Jafar were drawn up; one on red paper, known as lal kagaz, containing a clause embodying Omichand’s demand; the other on white, containing no such clause.  Admiral Watson, with bluff honesty, refused to have anything to do with the sham treaty; it was dishonorable, he said, and to ask his signature was an affront.  But his signature was necessary to satisfy Omichand.  At Clive’s request, it was forged by Mr. Lushington, a young writer of the Company’s.  The red treaty was shown to Omichand; it bought his silence; he suspected nothing.

The plot was now ripe.  Omichand left Murshidabad; Mr. Watts slipped away; and the Nawab, on being informed of his flight, wrote to Clive and Watson, upbraiding them with breaking their treaty with him, and set out to join his army.

Clive left Chandernagore on June thirteenth, his guns, stores and European soldiers being towed up the river in two hundred boats, the Sepoys marching along the highway parallel with the right bank.  Palti and Katwa were successively occupied by his advance guard under Eyre Coote.  But a terrible rain storm on the eighteenth delayed his march, and next day he received from Mir Jafar a letter that gave him no little uneasiness.

Mir Jafar announced that he had pretended to patch up his quarrel with the Nawab and sworn to be loyal to him; but he added that the measures arranged with Clive were still to be carried out.  This strange message suggested that Mir Jafar was playing off one against the other, or at best sitting on the fence until he was sure of the victor.  It was serious enough to give pause to Clive.  He was one hundred and fifty miles from his base at Calcutta; before him was an unfordable river watched by a vast hostile force.  If Mir Jafar should elect to remain faithful to his master the English army would in all likelihood be annihilated.  In these circumstances Clive wrote to the Committee of Council in Calcutta that he would not cross the river until he was definitely assured that Mir Jafar would join him.

His decision seemed to be justified next day when he received a letter from Mr. Watts at Khulna.  On the day he left Murshidabad, said Mr. Watts, Mir Jafar had denounced him as a spy and sworn to repel any attempt of the English to cross the river.  On receipt of this news Clive adopted a course unusual with him.  He called a Council of War, for the first and last time in his career.  Desmond was in Major Killpatrick’s tent when the summons to attend the Council reached that officer.