to arrive, and for a
while we stood looking out of the windows awaiting their coming. The
first mate pulled out a penknife and arranged his nails. The doctor and
Mr. Binnie talked of the progress of medicine. Binnie had walked the
hospitals of Edinburgh before getting his civil appointment to India.
The three gentlemen from Hanover Square and the Colonel had plenty to
say about Tom Smith of the Cavalry, and Harry Hall of the Engineers: how
Topham was going to marry poor little Bob Wallis's widow; how many lakhs
Barber had brought home, and the like. The tall grey-headed Englishman,
who had been in the East too, in the King's service, joined for a while
in this conversation, but presently left it, and came and talked with
Clive; "I knew your father in India," said the gentleman to the lad;
"there is not a more gallant or respected officer in that service. I
have a boy too, a stepson, who has just gone into the army; he is older
than you, he was born at the end of the Waterloo year, and so was
a great friend of his and mine, who was at your school, Sir Rawdon
Crawley."

"He was in Gown Boys, I know," says the boy; "succeeded his uncle Pitt,
fourth Baronet. I don't know how his mother--her who wrote the hymns,
you know, and goes to Mr. Honeyman's chapel--comes to be Rebecca, Lady
Crawley. His father, Colonel Rawdon Crawley, died at Coventry Island,
in August, 182-, and his uncle, Sir Pitt, not till September here. I
remember, we used to talk about it at Grey Friars, when I was quite a
little chap; and there were bets whether Crawley, I mean the young one,
was a Baronet or not."

"When I sailed to Rigy, Cornel," the first mate was speaking--nor can
any spelling nor combination of letters of which I am master, reproduce
this gentleman's accent when he was talking his best--"I racklackt they
used always to sairve us a drem before denner. And as your frinds are
kipping the denner, and as I've no watch to-night, I'll jist do as we
used to do at Rigy. James, my fine fellow, jist look alive and breng
me a small glass of brandy, will ye? Did ye iver try a brandy cocktail,
Cornel? Whin I sailed on the New York line, we used jest to make bits
before denner and--thank ye, James:" and he tossed off a glass of
brandy.

Here a waiter announces, in a loud voice, "Sir Thomas de Boots," and the
General enters, scowling round the room according to his fashion, very
red in the face, very tight in the girth, splendidly attired with a
chok