The man hesitated to reply, but a squeeze from the Gujarati decided him.
"There is a coil near the mainmast," he said.
Desmond slipped out, and in a few seconds returned with several yards of thin coir, a strong rope made of cocoanut fiber. Soon the serang lay bound hand and foot.
"What are the names of the men on the furthest vessel?"
"They are Rama, Sukharam, Ganu, Ganpat, Hari."
"Call Rama, gently; bid him come here. Do not raise your voice."
The man obeyed. The clicking of the dice ceased, and in a few moments a Maratha appeared at the doorway and entered blinking. No sooner had he set foot within the cabin than he was seized by the Gujarata and gagged, and then, with a rapidity only possible to the practised sailor, he was roped and laid helpless on the floor.
"Call Sukharam," said Desmond.
The second man answered the summons, only to suffer the same fate. A third was dealt with in the same fashion; then the fourth and fifth came together, wondering why the serang was so brutally interfering with their game. By the time they reached the door Desmond had turned the lantern to the wall, so that they saw only a dim shape within the cabin. Ganpat was secured before the last man became aware of what was happening. Hari hesitated at the threshold, hearing the sound of a slight scuffle caused by the seizure of his companion.
"Tell him to come in," whispered Desmond in the serang's ear, emphasizing the order by laying the cold blade of a knife against his collarbone.