ero in the hope of getting news from home.

"There's Surendra Nath and his father," said Mr. Merriman, as they came
near the steps.

His jolly face beamed when he stepped on to the ghat {landing stage}.

"Hullo, Babu!" he said, "glad to see you again."

He shook hands with both the men; the elder was much like his son, a
slightly-built Bengali, with white hair and very bright eyes. Both were
clad in dhotis of pure white; their legs were bare from the knee, their
feet shod with sandals. When the greeting had passed between them and
their master, the old man moved towards Desmond, put his hands together,
and made a deep salaam.

"I have heard what the sahib did for my son. I thank the sahib," he said.

"Yes, 'twas excellent good fortune for Surendra Nath," said Mr. Merriman.
"I knew you would be overjoyed to see your son again. But how is the bibi
{lady}, and the chota {young} bibi?"

"They were well, sahib, when last I heard. They are on a visit to Watts
Sahib, at Cossimbazar."

Merriman's face fell, but he had no time to say more, for he was accosted
by a friend.

"Glad to see you back, Mr. Merriman. I've wanted your voice on the
Council for some time past."

"Is anything wrong, Mr. Holwell?" asked Merriman anxiously.

"Everything is wrong. Alivirdi died a fortnight ago; Sirajuddaula has
stepped into his shoes; and Drake has made a mess of everything, with
Manningham's and Frankland's assistance. I want you to come and dine with
me this evening; we must have a serious talk; I've asked two or three men
of our sort in anticipation of your consent."

"Very well. Let me present my friend, Mr. Burke. He escaped from Gheria;
you've heard that Colonel Clive captured the place?"

"Yes; we had despatches from Admiral Watson some days ago. I had heard of
Mr. Burke's adventures--

"Your servant, sir; I am delighted to meet you--

"Well, Merriman, three o'clock; I will not detain you now; you'll want to
get home."

Mr. Merriman's bearers were at hand with his palanquin; he got into it;
the men set off at a swinging pace, warning the bystanders with their cry
of "Tok! Tok!" and Desmond walked by the side of the chair, amused to
watch the self-important airs of the peon who went in front. They passed
the fort and the Company's house, and arrived at length at a two-story
flat-roofed house with a veranda, the windows filled, not with oyster
shells as at Bombay, but with thin screens of reeds.

"Here we are," said