“I believe so,” said the Admiral. “Some of the Council were very urgent for sending only a small force, and keeping the rest to attack Bussey, but I have fought hard, and Mr Pigot is with me, to strip this place of every ship and every man we can send, and if I don’t mistake, there will be a greater man than I on the same side after to-morrow. We have sent swift cossids to fetch Colonel Clive with all speed from Fort St David.”
“Oh, sir, for Heaven’s sake,” I cried, “be so good as to overlook my disobedience, and allow me to make one of the force you send.”
“Why,” said our noble commander, “if I judged you by your behaviour to-day, child, I should put you under arrest for intending to desert, and punish you by leaving you here when we start for Calcutta. But it shall be overlooked, if you’ll give me your word of honour not in any way to anticipate the departure of the force.”
You’ll guess, madam, with what gratitude and alacrity I gave the required pledge, knowing that with Mr Watson and Mr Clive in charge there would be no delay in despatching the relief. The Admiral was as good as his word, and entertained me at his house for the night, wishing me sounder sleep than I have enjoyed. I can’t sleep, madam, for the fearful dreams that beset me, and I can’t think calmly, for I am almost mad, so that I have sought to quiet myself writing to you. I am sensible now of a sort of drowsiness stealing over me, so I hope for some relief.
Pray, madam, how did you know that I writ verses? I have never confided the secret even to my adored Miss Freyne, hoping one day to surprise her with a poem worthy of her, and I am sure, madam, that you was never told it by your obedient, humble servant,
C. Fraser.
(Written below the signature in another hand.)
Rear-Admiral Watson has the honour to inform Mrs Hurstwood that Lieutenant Fraser has been seized with one of the malignant fevers of the country, but is receiving every imaginable care and attention at the Tank-house, and Dr Ives thinks tolerable well of his case.
The Tank-house, Madrass, Sept. ye 18th.
Madam,—I am but now recovering from an attack of fever, the consequence, as I suppose, of the disorder of my spirits at the time I writ last. Alas that I should have so little that’s comforting to tell! Mr Labaume will have informed you of the divided counsels and faint-hearted schemes prevailing at this place, and of the incredible obstacles placed in the path of the Admiral and Colonel Clive in their patriotic efforts to redeem the disgrace inflicted upon the British nation by the success of the Soubah’s arms. Will it be credited in future ages that while a good portion of the Council thought only of sending to Fulta to fetch away the refugees there, and abandoning Bengal to the Moors and the French, Mr President Pigot, while ranging himself on the right side, desired to command the avenging force in his own person, though neither soldier nor seaman, and that Colonel Adlercron has over and over again brought matters to a deadlock by insisting on his right to the command, as being senior in his Majesty’s service to Colonel Clive? Were it not that Colonel Lawrence, Mr Clive’s ancient superior in the Carnatic wars, enjoys but poor health, we would questionless find in him another claimant to the honour. Lying, as I am, in the Admiral’s own house, where I have received such continual and obliging kindness as could not have been exceeded in my own father’s abode, I am in the way of hearing all that goes on from the gentlemen who visit me, full of indignation and resentment, as much almost against Colonel Adlercron and his intimates as against Surajah Dowlah. But to-day I have experienced a special honour, and been gladdened by the best news I could receive in my present unhappy situation. The Admiral came in just now to visit me, bringing with him a person in a military undress whom I knew to be Colonel Clive.