Diggle looked around as if hoping that even now something might happen in his favor. But no one was in sight; Desmond stood over him with sword still drawn; and recognizing his helplessness the man at length turned towards the shore and began to walk slowly along, Desmond a foot or so in the rear.
"'Twas a most strange chance, surely," he said, "that brought you to this spot at the very moment when I was shaking the dust of Gheria from my feet. How impossible it is to escape the penalty of one's wrongdoing! Old Horace knew it: Raro antecedentem scelestum--you remember the rest. Mr. Burslem drubbed our Latin into us, Mr. Burke. I am a fellow townsman of yours, though you did not know it: aye, a boy in your old school, switched by your old master. I have treated you badly. I admit it; but what could I do? Your brother slandered you; I see now how he deceived me; he wished you out of his way. Here I acted under pressure of Angria; he was bent on sending you to Bombay; I could not defy him. I was wrong; what you said when I saw you last made a deep impression on me; I repented, and, as Tully, I think, put it, 'a change of plan is the best harbor to a penitent man.' I was indeed seeking that refuge of the repentant, and altering my whole plan of life; and if you will but tarry a moment--"
"Keep on, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond, as the man, who had been talking over his shoulder, half stopped; "my point is sharp."
"I was leaving the fort, as you saw. Not from any fear; you will acquit me of that, and as you know, the fort is impregnable, and I might have remained there in perfect safety. No, I was quitting it because I was wearied, disgusted with Angria and his ways. 'Twas under a misapprehension I for a time consorted with him; I am disabused, and it is by the mere malignity of Fate that at this turning point of my career I encounter one whom, I acknowledge, I have wronged. I am beaten; I do not blink that; and by a better man. But youth is generous; and you, Mr. Burke, are not the man to press your advantage against one who all his life has been the sport of evil circumstance. I was bound for farther India; I know a little port to the south where I should have taken ship, with strong hope of getting useful and honorable employment when my voyage was ended. Perchance you have heard of Alivirdi Khan; if you would but pause a moment--"
"Go on, Mr. Diggle," said Desmond inexorably; "and it will be well to mend your pace."
"Alivirdi Khan," resumed Diggle, speaking more rapidly; the waters of the harbor, glowing red, were in sight: "Alivirdi Khan is sick unto death. He is wealthy beyond all imaginings. His likeliest heir, Sirajuddaula, soon to be Subah {viceroy} of Bengal, is well known to me, and indeed beholden to me for services rendered in the past. Mr. Burke, I make you a proposition--it is worth considering. Why not come with me? Wipe off old scores, throw in your lot with mine. Together, what could we not do--I with my experience, you with your youthful vigor! See, here is an earnest of my sincerity."
He took from his fob a large diamond which flashed in the red light of the conflagration.
"Accept this; in the treasuries of Alivirdi there are thousands like it, each worth a king's ransom. Come with me, and I promise you that within two years you shall be rich beyond your wildest dreams."
"Put up your diamond, Mr. Peloti. You may repeat your offer when we reach Colonel Clive."
Diggle stopped as if shot. He looked with startled eyes at the boy, who had known him only as Diggle.