of you. You have done me the best service man
ever did: you have avenged my brother and restored to me all that I held
dearest in the world. I love you as a son, Desmond; I wish you were my
son, indeed, my boy."

Desmond looked a little uncomfortable.

"May I venture--" he began hesitatingly; "do you think, in some years'
time, if I get on here, I might--"

"Well?"

"Do you think I might--in short, that I might have a chance of becoming
your son, sir?"

"Eh? Is that it? Mr. Warren Hastings asked me the same question the other
day, Desmond. You can't both have her, you know. What does Phyllis say?"

"I--I haven't asked her, sir."

"Quite right. You're only a boy. Well, Hastings is to remain as assistant
to Mr. Scrafton, our new agent at Murshidabad. You remain as
assistant--or is it rival, eh--to Mr. Clive. You're both out of the way.
Phyllis may prefer Bulger."

"Bulger?"

"Yes. Didn't you know? Phyllis has taken a fancy to him; that hook of his
appears to be a most fascinating feature; and he will accompany us home."

Desmond laughed a little awkwardly.

"I hope--" he began.

"He won't hook her? But there, I mustn't make sport of such a serious
matter. Go on as you have begun, my dear lad, and I promise you, when you
come home, that if Phyllis hasn't found someone already to her liking,
you shall have all the influence I can exert with the minx."

"Thank you, sir: I couldn't ask for more. There's another thing: do you
think you could do anything for Mr. Toley? He's a capital fellow."

"I know it. I have anticipated you. Toley is appointed captain of the
Jane, an Indiaman that arrived the other day; her captain died of scurvy
on the way out. She'll sail for England next week; we go with her; and so
does that villain Barker, who'll get his deserts when he reaches London.
The Good Intent is broken up; her interloping is over for good and all.

"But come, my boy, sure 'tis time we dressed: Admiral Watson likes
punctuality, and I promise you he'll give us a capital dinner. A word in
your ear: Phyllis is to sit between you and Hastings. You can't eat him,
at any rate."

A week later Desmond went down to the Company's ghat to see the Jane
sail. Mr. Toley in his brand new uniform looked more melancholy than
ever, and Phyllis Merriman made a little grimace when she saw for the
first time the captain under whose charge she was to sail for home.

"Don't be alarmed," said Desmond, laughing. "The sadde