"Yes," replied Desmond. "Who are you?"
"My name, sir, is Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti. I was lately a clerk in the employ of a burra[#] sahib, English factor, at Calcutta."
[#] Great.
"How did you get here?"
"That, sahib, is a moving tale. While on a visit of condolence to my respectable uncle and aunt at Chittagong, I was kidnapped by Sanderband piratical dogs. Presto!--at that serious crisis a Dutch ship makes apparition and rescues me; but my last state is more desperate than the first. The Dutch vessel will not stop to replace me on mother-earth; she is for Bombay across the kala pani[#], as we say. I am not a swimmer; besides, what boots it?--we are ten miles from land, to say nothing of sharks and crocodiles and the lordly tiger. So I perforce remain, to the injury of my caste, which forbids navigation. But see the issue. The Dutch ship is assaulted; grabs and gallivats galore swarm upon the face of the waters; all is confusion worse confounded; in a brace of shakes we are in the toils. It is now two years since this untoward catastrophe. With the crew I am conveyed hither and eat the bitter crust of servitude. Some of the Dutchmen are consigned to other forts in possession of the Pirate, and three serve here in his state barge."
[#] Black water--the sea.
Desmond glanced at the sleeping forms.
"No, sir, they are not here," said the Babu[#], catching his look. "They share another apartment with your countrymen--chained? Oh yes! These, my bedfellows of misfortune, are Indians, not of Bengal, like myself; two are Biluchis hauled from a country ship; two are Musalmans from Mysore; one a Gujarati; two Marathas. We are a motley crew--a miscellany, no less."
[#] Equivalent to Mr.; generally applied to educated Bengalis.
"What do they do with you in the daytime?"