“And what of dividing our own forces, sir?” asked the Captain. “They are far too small as it is for the extent of our defences, and to send half of ’em five miles off on t’other side of the river would be madness. And as for the Nabob, why, Monickchund and the Hoogly garrison alone could deal with any force we could send to hold Tanners without our being able even to offer to relieve it.”
“But help may yet reach us, sir, from Madrass or Bombay.”
“Scarcely, sir, unless they have been warned of our plight in a vision, for now that the sea is shut by the munsoon, our letters despatched yesterday by the country messengers can’t reach even Madrass in less than a month.”
“But the French and Dutch may yet determine to assist us, Captain.”
“They may, sir; and if they should, I’ll freely allow that the humble and imploring letters of the President and Council to ’em were justified. But I fancy they won’t.”
Here I saw Mr Dash come into the compound in haste, as though brimfull of news, but looking askance at Mr Holwell, against whom, as my Amelia will recollect, he cherishes some pique. Observing, however, that Mr Holwell did not remark his presence (for indeed, I doubt if the good gentleman know more of him than his name), Mr Dash joined himself to the company, and slipped quietly into a seat close to me.
“The rumour of which I asked Mr Freyne last night is true, madam,” he said.
“That concerning a treachery on the part of some European, sir?”
“Even so, madam. The thing is fairly proved, and Miss Freyne should be doubly rejoiced at the discovery, since the traitor is a person that has often, I believe, disobliged her. ’Tis Mr Menotti.”
“I protest, sir, I don’t see why I should rejoice to find that a person who had professed esteem for me is a traitor.”