Desmond edged his way to them until he was within arm’s length of Bulger’s hook.  He stood for a moment looking at them, imagining their surprise when they saw him, wondering if their pleasure would be as keen as his own.  Both appeared rather battered; Mr. Toley’s expression was never merry, and he was neither more nor less melancholy than usual; but Bulger’s habitual cheerfulness seemed to have left him; his air was moody and downcast.

How came they here?  The Good Intent being an interloper, it was not at all likely that she had ventured to put in at Calcutta.

By and by Bulger seemed to become aware that someone was gazing at him, for he turned round slowly.  Desmond could not but smile at his extraordinary change of expression.  His first look of blank amazement quickly gave place to one of almost boyish delight, and taking an eager step forward he exclaimed: 

“By thunder, ’tis Mr. Burke or his ghost!  Bless my heart!  Ho! shake hands, matey; this is a sight for bad eyes!”

“Glad to see you, Bulger,” said Desmond quietly; “and you, too, Mr. Toley.”

Mr. Toley had shown no surprise; but then, nothing ever surprised Mr. Toley.

“Sure I’m rejoiced,” he said.  “We had given you up for lost.”

His hearty hand grip was more convincing than his words, though, indeed, Desmond had good reason to know the real kindliness that always lay behind his outward solemnity of manner.

“You’re better in togs than when I seed you last, sir,” said Bulger, gripping his hand again.  “Which you look quite the gentleman; got a berth as supercargo, sir?”

“Not yet, Bulger,” replied Desmond, laughing.  “How’s Captain Barker?”

Bulger spat out a quid of tobacco and hitched up his breeches.

“I don’t know how Captain Barker is, and what’s more, I don’t care,” he said.  “Me and Barker en’t friends:  leastways, not on speakin’ terms; which I will say, hang Captain Barker, topsy versy, any way you like; and I don’t care who hears me.”

“What has happened?”

“Happened!  Why, sir, Mr. Toley’ll tell you what happened.  He knows the thus, therefore, and whereupon of it.”

The good fellow was itching to tell, but as in duty bound deferred to his superior officer.

“Go on, Bulger,” said the American, “you’ve got a looser tongue than me.”

“Which I don’t deny, sir.  Two days ago—­’twas at Chandernagore, where the Good Intent’s been laid up for a matter a’ weeks—­the captain he went an’ forgot hisself, sir; clean forgot hisself, an’ lifted his hand to Mr. Toley; ay, hit him, sir.  Wunst it was, sir, on’y wunst; then ’twas Mr. Toley his turn.  Ah, an’ I warrant Captain Barker’s in his bunk today.  Never did I see sich a sight all the years I’ve been afloat, an’ that’s saying something.  There was captain spread out on deck, sir, with his eyes bunged up an’ a tooth or two that had lost their bearin’s, and all his bones wonderin’ if they was ever goin’ to get joined again.