“Oh, dear sir, let me stay at home with you, and I shall be quite content,” I cried, and went to my chamber, to wake up again and again in the night thinking that I was sailing on one of the slimy, feverish channels of this horrid river, in the power of the vile Menotti, and bound for the nearest European factory where a Popish priest was to be found. My Amelia won’t be surprised, seeing how nearly successful the wicked attempt proved, that my only comfort lay in my papa’s promise for the future, although I won’t deny that I was thankful to have been saved without another of those public discoveries in which your poor Sylvia’s name (I think I may say without her fault) has been too much mixed up.
May ye 27th.
To-day Captain Colquhoun visited my papa for tiffing, and told us, with the most vehement disgust, that the Council had stopped all the work that was being done to repair the fortifications, and were sending very humble letters through Mr Watts to the Nabob, representing that since they were building no new defences it was impossible they should cease working on ’em, as his Highness ordered, but that what little they could do to pleasure him was already done, and in consideration of this would he be graciously pleased to withdraw his army from before Cossimbuzar, and leave our factory in safety?
“For Britons to cringe before Surajah Dowlah is an unpardonable sin!” cried the Captain.
“Why,” says my papa, “they argue that he that is down needs fear no fall. If they wallow in the dust before the Soubah, ’tis quite clear that he can’t kick ’em any lower. So that they save their private property and get off with a whole skin, what’s Britain’s honour to them?”
“In that,” cried the Captain, “I’m convinced—and I might almost say I rejoice to think so—they’re wrong. If the Soubah is set on the capture of Calcutta, all their humility won’t turn him aside, and I believe he is.”
“But sure he won’t be such a fool as kill the goose that lays the golden eggs?” says my papa.
“Why, sir, he hopes to make the goose his own. The French have assured him that all the Rajas of the province have laid up their revenues in our Fort for safety, and he looks to lay hands not only on them, but on all our customs and dues for the future. Whatever good advice his grandfather Ally Verdy may have given him to leave us alone, as Mr Holwell insists he did, I can’t doubt but he designs to strip first us, and then the other European factories, of all our privileges.”
“But we shall have a word to say to the gentleman first, Captain.”
“I doubt it, sir; for if so, why are we neglecting our defences, which if they were in good order might enable us to hold out against the Nabob until the rains begin, or even until this year’s fleet arrives from home? Under the guidance of Mr President and his two friends we are dancing smiling to destruction.”