“A private venture,” he said to Desmond, “nothing to do with the Company.”

Desmond expressed his surprise that the Company’s officials were at liberty to engage in private trading.

“Why, bless you, how could we live otherwise?  Do you imagine I got rich on the Company?  What do you suppose my salary is as member of Council?  ’Tis just forty pounds.  The factors get fifteen and the writers five:  Colonel Clive began at five pounds a year:  so you may guess that we have to do something to keep flesh on our bones.

“And that reminds me of a proposal I wished to make to you.  You have a little money from the sale of the Pirate’s grab, and you’ll have more by and by when the Gheria prize money is distributed.  Why not put some of it into the Hormuzzeer?  Let me buy some goods for you, and send ’em to Penang:  they’ll fetch top prices there, especially in the present state of trade.  ’Twill be an excellent investment.”

“Thank you, sir, I’ll be glad to follow your advice.”

“That’s right.  I’ll see about it at once, and the sooner these things come from Cossimbazar the better.  The delay is vexing, and I fear I’ll have to change my agent there.”

Mr. Merriman being so much occupied with business and public affairs, Desmond had much time to himself.  He soon made friends among the junior merchants and factors, and in their company went about Calcutta.

Fort William was built near the river, the factory house in the center of the inclosure.  Around it on three sides were the houses of individual merchants and officers.  A wide avenue known as the Lal Bazar led from the ravelin of the fort past the courthouse to the native part of the town.  On one side of the avenue was the Park or Lal Bagh, with a great tank by which a band played in the evening.  Around the town was the incomplete Maratha ditch.

Desmond became the object of much kindly attention from the Company’s servants and their families.  Everyone was eager to hear from his own lips the story of his adventures, and invitations to dinners and routs and card parties poured upon him.  He accepted one or two and politely excused himself from the rest, not from any want of sociability, but from motives of prudence.  His kind host had already given him a friendly warning; some of the writers and younger servants of the Company were wild spirits, and spent more time than was good for them in cards and revels.

On the evening of the third day after his arrival he went down to the river to watch the arrival of some country vessels.  There was the usual crowd at the ghat, and as Desmond gradually worked his way through it he suddenly saw, just in front of him, two men whose backs were very familiar.  They were in the dress of seamen:  one was tall and thin, the other broad and brawny, and Desmond did not need his glimpse of the iron hook to be sure that the men were none other than his old friend Bulger and Mr. Toley, the melancholy mate.  They were standing side by side watching in silence the arrival of the boats.