CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FOURTH
In which the danger of judging by appearance is notably exemplified.
"Sure 'tis a most pleasant engaging young man," said Mrs. Merriman, as her boat dropped down the river towards Chandernagore. "Don't you think so, Phyllis?"
"Why, mamma, it does seem so. But 'tis too soon to make up my mind in ten minutes."
"Indeed, miss! Let me tell you I made up my mind about your father in five. La, how Merriman will laugh when he hears 'twas Mr. Burke gave him that scar!--What is the matter, Munnoo Khan?"
The boat had stopped with a jerk, and the boatmen were looking at one another with some anxiety. The serang explained that ill luck had caused the boat to strike a snag in the river, and she was taking in water.
"You clumsy man! The Sahib will be angry with you. Make haste, then; row harder."
"Mamma, 'tis impossible!" cried Phyllis in alarm, "See, the water is coming in fast; we shall be swamped in a few minutes!"
"Mercy me, 'tis as you say! Munnoo Khan, row to the nearest ghat: you see it there! Sure 'tis a private ghat, belonging to the house of one of the French merchants. He will lend us a boat. 'Twill be vastly annoying if we do not reach home to-night."
The men just succeeded in reaching the ghat, on the left bank of the river about a mile below Chandernagore, before the boat sank. When the party had landed, Mrs. Merriman sent her jamadar up to the house to ask for the loan of a boat, or for shelter while one was being obtained from Chandernagore.