"Well, you can tell Mr. Watts so if ever you see him. At present we have no time to waste in talk. Where is Surendra Nath?"
"Gone to keep his weather eye on the codger's godown, sir."
"Which shows he's a man of sense. Are all the men here?"
"So far as I know, sir. I may be wrong."
"Well, they'll make their way in small parties down to the river. 'Tis dark enough now; they will not be noticed, and they can steal along the bank under the trees until they come near Coja Solomon's ghat. You must come with me."
"Very good, sir," replied Bulger, hitching up his breeches and drawing his hanger.
"But not like that. You'll have to get those black whiskers of yours shaved, my man. If they grew all over you'd pass perhaps for a Moor; but not with a fringe like that. And you must stain your face; I have the stuff in this bundle; and we'll borrow a dhoti and sandals from Abdul Kader. We'll dress you up between us."
Bulger looked aghast.
"Dash my buttons, sir, I'll look like a November guy! What would my mates say, a-seein' me dressed up like a stuffed Moor at Smithfield fair--a penny a shy, sir?"
"Your mates are not here to see you, and if you hold your tongue they'll never know it."