Desmond, now a major, had returned home in company with Clive.  During the three years that had passed since he witnessed the sailing of the Jane he had seen much service.  He had been with Colonel Forde when that fine soldier expelled the French from the northern Sirkars.  He was with the same officer when he thrashed the Dutch at Biderra.  He had been in close touch with Clive when these successful operations were planned, and the nearer he saw him, the more he admired the great man’s courage in taking risks, promptitude in dealing with sudden emergencies, sagacity in seeing to the heart of a difficult situation.  Thus, during those three years, he gained much knowledge of the science of war, and much experience in dealing with men.  He became rich also, not by questionable means, but by reaping the legitimate rewards of good and faithful service.

Before leaving India, Desmond learned of changes that had happened at home.  His brother had been thrown by a young and mettlesome horse, and so badly trampled that he must remain a helpless invalid for the rest of his life.  Sir Willoughby Stokes, even before he heard of the death of his nephew Peloti, had made Desmond his heir.  Mr. Merriman had bought an estate near his father’s old friend, and settled down to the life of a country gentleman.  A year after his return, Job Grinsell, the landlord of the Four Alls, had been sentenced to a long term of imprisonment for poaching, and Mr. Merriman had no difficulty in persuading Sir Philip Chetwode to let his inn to Bulger.

After an interview with Mr. Merriman, Desmond found the courage to put to Phyllis the question which he had not ventured to ask before she left India.  What the answer was may be inferred from the fact that Sir Willoughby insisted on the wedding taking place at once.  It was time for the return of his old enemy the gout, he said; he was going to Buxton to end his days, and wished to see the Hall in the hands of his heir before he left.

Mr. Burslem, Desmond’s old schoolmaster, performed the ceremony, and Clive, though suffering from rheumatism, came down for the occasion.  The only familiar form that Desmond missed was that of old Dickon, who had died a few months after Desmond’s departure from home.

Desmond settled down for a time at the Hall, cheering his mother’s declining years, repaying good for ill to his invalid brother, and winning golden opinions from all his neighbors high and low.  He eagerly watched the further career of his old hero, now Lord Clive; learned to admire him as statesman as well as soldier; sympathized with him through all the attacks made upon him; and mourned him sincerely when, in 1774, the great man, preyed upon by an insidious disease, died by his own hand.