sir. I never thought of such a thing."

"I was sure of it. But to come back to my starting point. 'Tis time you
broke these narrow bounds. India, now--what better sphere for a young man
bent on making his way? Look at Clive, whom you admire--as stupid a boy
as you could meet in a day's march. Why, I can remember--"

He caught himself up, but after the slightest pause, resumed:

"Forsan et haec ohm meminisse juvabit. Look at Clive, I was saying; a
lout, a bear, a booby--as a boy, mark you; yet now! Is there a man whose
name rings more loudly in the world's ear? And what Robert Clive is, that
Desmond Burke might be if he had the mind and the will. You are going
farther? Ah, I have not your love of ambulation. I will bid you farewell
for this time; sure it will profit you to ponder my words."

Desmond did ponder his words. He walked for three or four hours, thinking
all the time. Who had said that he was waiting for the squire's shoes? He
glowed with indignation at the idea of such a construction being placed
upon his friendship for Sir Willoughby.

"If they think that," he said to himself, "the sooner I go away the
better."

And the seed planted by Diggle took root and began to germinate with
wonderful rapidity. To emulate Clive!--what would he not give for the
chance? But how was it possible? Clive had begun as a writer in the
service of the East India Company; but how could Desmond procure a
nomination? Perhaps Sir Willoughby could help him; he might have
influence with the Company's directors. But, supposing he obtained a
nomination, how could he purchase his outfit? He had but a few guineas,
and after what Diggle had said he would starve rather than ask the squire
for a penny. True, under his father's will he was to receive five
thousand pounds at the age of twenty-one. Would Richard advance part of
the sum? Knowing Richard, he hardly dared to hope for such a departure
from the letter of the law. But it was at least worth attempting.

Chapter 4: In which blows are exchanged; and our hero, setting forth upon
his travels, scents an adventure.

That same day, at supper, seeing that Richard was apparently in good
humor, Desmond ventured to make a suggestion.

"Dick," he said frankly, "don't you think it would be better for all of
us if I went away? You and I don't get along very well, and perhaps I was
not cut out for a farmer."

Richard grunted, and Mrs. Burke looked apprehensively from one to the