Crouching low, Desmond waited. When the Maratha joined the groups Fuzl Khan addressed him directly in a low firm tone.
"We are all agreed, Nanna," he said. "You are the only man wanting to our purpose. This is the fastest grab on the coast. I know a port where we can get arms and ammunition; with a few good men (and I know where they can be found), we can make a strong band, and grow rich upon our spoils."
"But what about the sahib?"
"Wah! We know what these Firangi are like--at least the Angrezi {English}. They have the heads of pigs: there is no moving them. It would be vain to ask the young sahib to join us; his mind is set on getting to Bombay and telling all his troubles to the Company. What a folly! And what an injustice to us! It would destroy our chance of making our fortunes, for what would happen? The grab would be sold; the sahib would take the most of the price; we should get a small share, not enough to help us to become rovers of the sea and our own masters."
"The sahib will refuse, then. So be it! But what then shall we do with him?"
"He will not get the chance of refusing. He will not be told."
"But he is taking us to Bombay. How then can we work our will?"
"He thinks he is sailing to Bombay: he will really take us to Cutch."
"How that, brother?"
"Does he know Bombay? Of a truth no. He is a boy, he has never sailed these seas. He depends on us. Suppose we come in sight of Bombay, who will tell him? Nobody. If he asks, we will say it is some other place: how can he tell? We will run past Bombay until we are within sight of Cutch: then truly I will do the rest."