ram rattled across Bombay Green, past the
church and the whitewashed houses of the English merchants, their
oyster-shell windows already lit up; and in some forty-five minutes
entered a long avenue leading to Mr. Bourchier's country house. Twice
during the course of the journey Desmond was interested to see the
shigramwallah {wallah is a personal affix, denoting a close connection
between the person and the thing described by the main word.
Shigramwallah thus is carriage driver} pull his team up, dismount, and,
going to their heads, insert his hand in their mouths.

"What does he do that for?" he asked.

"To clear their throats, to be sure. When the beasts go at this pace they
make a terrible lot of foam, and if he didn't swab it out they'd choke,
and no nonsense.

"Well, here we are. Dash my wig, won't his Excellency open his eyes!"

Since their departure from the fort the sky had become quite dark. At the
end of the avenue they could see the lights of Governor Bourchier's
bungalow, and by and by caught sight of figures sitting on the veranda.
Desmond's heart beat high; he made no doubt that one of them was Clive;
the moment to which he had looked forward so eagerly was at last at hand.
He was in no dream land; but his dream had come true. He felt a little
nervous at the prospect of meeting men so famous, so immeasurably above
him, as Clive and Admiral Watson; but with Clive he felt a bond of union
in his birthplace, and it was with recovered confidence that he sprang
out of the cart and accompanied Mr. Johnson to the bungalow. He was
further reassured by a jolly laugh that rang out just as he reached the
steps leading up to the veranda.

"Hullo, Johnson," said a voice, "what does this mean?"

"I've come to see the governor, Captain."

"Then you couldn't have come at a worse time. The supper's half an hour
late, and you know what that means to the governor."

Mr. Johnson smiled.

"He'll forget his supper when he has heard my news. 'Tis about the
Pirate."

"What's that?" said another voice. "News of the Pirate?"

"Yes, Mr. Watson. This young gentleman--"

But he was interrupted by the khansaman {butler}, who came out at this
moment and with a salaam announced that supper was served.

"You'd better come in, Johnson," said the first speaker. "Any news of the
Pirate will be sauce to Mr. Bourchier's goose."

The gentlemen rose from their seats, and went into the house, followed by
Desmond and the