Meanwhile the crew had looked on for a few breathless moments in amazement at this sudden turn of affairs.  But as the Gujarati fell Desmond heard a noise behind him.  Half turning, he saw Shaik Abdullah rushing towards him with a marlinspike.  The man had him at a disadvantage, for he was breathless from his tussle with Fuzl Khan; but at that moment a dark object hurtled through the air, striking this new antagonist at the back of the head, and hurling him a lifeless lump into the scuppers.

Desmond looked round in wonderment:  who among the crew had thus befriended him so opportunely?  His wonder was not lessened when he saw the Babu, trembling like a leaf, his eyes blazing, his dusky face indescribably changed.  At the sight of Desmond’s peril the Bengali, forgetting his weakness, exalted above his timidity, had caught up with both hands a round nine-pounder shot that lay on deck, and in a sudden strength of fury had hurled it at the Biluchi.  His aim was fatally true; the man was killed on the spot.

With his eyes Desmond thanked the Babu; there was no time for words.  The hostile grabs were undoubtedly making chase.  They had separated, with the intention of bearing down upon and overhauling the Tremukji in whatever direction she might flee.  Fuzl Khan still lay helpless upon the deck.

“Secure that man,” said Desmond to two of the crew.

He spoke curtly and sternly, with the air of one who expected his orders to be executed without question; though he felt a touch of anxiety lest the men should still defy him.  But they went about their task instantly without a word:  Desmond’s bold stand, and the swift overthrow of the big Gujarati, had turned the tide in his favor, and he thrilled with relief and keen pleasure that he was master of the situation.

While the ringleader of the mutineers was being firmly bound, Desmond turned to Nanna and said: 

“Now, answer me at once.  What is that place?”

“It is Kulaba, sahib.”

“Where is Kulaba?”

“A few miles south of Bombay, sahib.”

“Good.  Run up the fore-topsail.”

He went to the wheel.

“Thank you, serang.  I will relieve you.  Go forward and see that the men crowd on all sail.”

The mutiny had been snuffed out; the men went about their work quietly, with the look of whipped dogs; and barring accidents Desmond knew that before long he would make Bombay and be safe.  With every stitch of canvas set, the vessel soon showed that she had the heels of her pursuers.  Before she could draw clear, two of them came within range with their bow chasers, and their shot whistled around somewhat too close to be comfortable.  But she steadily drew ahead, and ere long it was seen that the four grabs were being hopelessly outpaced.  They kept up the chase for the best part of an hour, but as they neared the British port they recognized that they were running into danger and had the discretion to draw off.