the deserters would, he thought, greatly facilitate the task.
His plan very nearly succeeded to an extent he had never contemplated. Clive had returned from his demonstration against d'Auteuil, and, worn out and weary, had laid himself down to sleep in a caravanserai behind the smaller of the two pagodas occupied as barracks by his men. They also slept. This was the position within the village when a spy, sent forward by the leader of the surprising party, returned with the information that Clive and his men were there, and were sleeping. This news decided the commander to press on and to seize the great Englishman where he lay. By means of his deserters he deceived the sentries. One of the former, an Irishman, informed the tired watchmen that he had been sent by Lawrence to strengthen Clive. The party was admitted, and one of the garrison was directed to lead its members to their quarters. They marched quietly through the lines of sleeping Maráthá and sipáhis till they reached the lesser pagoda. There they were again challenged. Their reply was a volley through its open doors on the prostrate forms within it. They went on then to the caravanserai and repeated their action there.
Again was Clive surprised. Once more were the coolness, the clearness of intellect, the self-reliance, of one man pitted against the craft and wiles of his enemies. Once again did the one man triumph. He was, I repeat, as much surprised as the least of his
