. In addition to the trouble
in France, there were other affairs demanding attention in Spain and
India. The whole world seemed to need readjusting at once.

Wellesley's next assignment was to accompany an expedition against the
French settlement in the West Indies, which set sail in October, 1795.
But when only two days out the ships encountered a terrible storm. One
ship sank with all on board, others were badly crippled, and hundreds
of sailors perished. The expedition put back to England.

Although Wellesley escaped the full effects of this storm, the exposure
left his health undermined. His regiment was ordered abroad in the
Spring, this time to the East Indies, and when they set sail, in April,
he was too ill to accompany them. It was not until February, 1797,
that he joined them in Calcutta.

Arthur Wellesley was now in his twenty-eighth year. All that had
passed hitherto might be regarded as his schooling. He had been an
obscure and "foolish" boy at school (to all appearance). He had failed
to make his mark as a military student on the Maine. He had been a
dilettante staff officer, and a reticent member of Parliament. Money
and family had apparently made him what he was--neither better nor
worse than many another young British officer. In his brief campaign
in France, he had conducted himself creditably, but had come away with
a distaste for the service, as it was then conducted.

To revert to our former parallel--Napoleon at twenty-eight was on the
high road to world mastery. Wellington at twenty-eight had not yet
found himself. But now on his trip to India he was on the threshold of
his career. His deeds there and on other fields were to astonish the
world. Did they also astonish the silent officer himself?

It would require a detailed account of the Indian campaign to trace
adequately the gradual rise of this officer in the service. For his
was not a meteoric or spectacular rise. It was by gradual steps--but
each step found him _fully prepared_. This, perhaps, is as near the
secret of the great soldier's success as we can get. He was never a
self-advertiser. He never talked much. But he was keenly observant,
and his wonderfully retentive memory aided him at every turn. He could
go through a countryside once, and then be able to map out an
attack--using every natural advantage to its utmost.

And, best of all, his superiors were beginning to discover his merits.
They soon found, be