Merriman with a sigh of relief.

"Now I'll hand you over to the baniya {factotum}; he'll show you to your
room. I'm vexed that my wife is not here; of course she didn't know when
to expect me; and Mrs. Watts is an old friend of hers. 'Tis a relief in
one way; for Mr. Watts is a shrewd fellow--he's head of our factory at
Cossimbazar, and senior member of Council here--and he would have sent
the ladies away if he scented danger. Sorry I shall have to leave you; I
must dine with Mr. Holwell; he's our zamindar--judge of the Cutcheri
court and collector of taxes: a fine fellow, the most cool-headed man on
the Council. But the khansaman will give you something to eat: and I'll
be back as soon as I can. You can take it easy on the veranda, and you'll
find a hookah if you care to try it."

"No, thanks," said Desmond with a smile; "I've no fancy that way."

Shortly afterwards Mr. Merriman left the house in his palanquin, wearing
the short white calico jacket that was then de rigueur at dinner parties.
It was late before he returned. There was an anxious and worried look on
his face, but he said cheerily:

"Well, how have you been getting on?"

"I've been reading, sir: I found a volume of Mr. Fielding's Amelia, and
'twas a change to read after eighteen months without setting eyes on a
book. I hope you had a good dinner."

"'Pon my soul, I don't know. None of us knows, I warrant. We had too much
to talk about to think about our appetites. Two or three members of
Council were there, and Captain Minchin, the military commandant. Things
are looking black, Desmond. Alivirdi is dead, and, as I expected, his
scoundrel of a grandson, Sirajuddaula, is the new Subah. He has
imprisoned one of his rivals, his aunt, and is marching against another,
his cousin Shaukat Jung; and 'tis the common talk that our turn will come
next."

"But why should he be at odds with us?"

"Why, to begin with, he's a native and hates us; thinks we're too rich,
and though he's rich enough he would like to get what we have and turn us
out. Then our president Mr. Drake has acted in the weakest possible way;
the very way to encourage the Subah. Instead of siding with Sirajuddaula
from the first, as he might well have done, because the rivals never had
the ghost of a chance, he shilly shallied. Then he offended him by giving
shelter to a fellow named Krishna Das, who came in a month ago with fifty
sacks of treasure from Murshidabad; it really belonged to t