“Is the landing easy?”

“Yes, sir.  There are three sandy bays under the hill, without any surf to make landing difficult.  One is out of the line of fire from the fort.”

“And what about the land side?  There’s a town, is there not?”

“On a neck of land, sir.  There’s a wall, but nothing to keep out a considerable force.  If an attack were made from that side the people would, I think, flock into the fort.”

“And is that as strong as rumor says?”

“’Tis pretty strong, sir; there are double walls, and thick ones; they’d stand a good battering.”

“It seems to me, Admiral,” said the red-faced gentleman with a laugh, “that you’ve learned all you sent Commodore James to find out.

“What do you say, Mr. Clive?”

“It seems so, Mr. Merriman.  But I think, Mr. Watson, in our eagerness to learn something of Gheria, we must seem somewhat cavalier to this lad, whose interest in our plans cannot be equal to our own.

“You have shown, sir,” he added, addressing Desmond, “great spirit and courage, not less ingenuity, in your daring escape from the Pirate.  But I want to go farther back.  How came you to fall into the Pirate’s hands?  You have told us only part of your story.”

“Yes, indeed,” said Mr. Bourchier.  “If you are not tired, we shall be vastly pleased to hear more, Mr. Burke.”

“Your name is Burke?” interrupted Clive.  “I had not before caught it.  May I ask what part of Ireland you come from, sir?  Pardon me, but your accent smacks more of Shropshire than of County Dublin.”

“’Tis Shropshire, sir; I come from Market Drayton.”

("Like yourself!” his glowing cheeks and flashing eyes seemed to say.  This was the proudest moment in Desmond’s life as yet.)

“I was not mistaken,” said Clive.  “I remember a schoolfellow of mine of your name; let me see—­”

“Richard Burke, sir, my brother; my father was Captain Burke in the Company’s service.”

“Sure I have it now.  I remember him:  a tall, fine old sea dog whom I saw at times in Market Drayton when I was a child.  I had a great awe of Captain Burke—­i’faith, the only man I was afraid of.  And you are his son!—­But come, I am interrupting your story.”

Desmond spoke of his longing for adventure, which had led him to leave home in search of fortune.  He glossed over his brother’s ill treatment.  He told how he had been inveigled on board the Good Intent, and handed over to Angria when the vessel arrived at Gheria.  He mentioned no names except that of Captain Barker, though he could not have explained his motive in keeping silence about Diggle.

“Barker is a villain, ripe for the gallows,” said Captain King.  “But, Mr. Burke, I don’t understand how you came to be so hoodwinked in London.  Sure you must have known that a boy without an ounce of experience would never be made supercargo.  Had you any enemies in London?”