"Accidentally, sir, the night of your banquet in Market Drayton."

"Indeed! 'Tis all vastly curious. Was he lodging in the town?"

"He came in from Chester that night and lodged at the Four Alls."

"With that disreputable sot Grinsell!" Clive paused. "Did he tell you anything about himself?"

"Very little, sir, except that he'd been unlucky. I think he mentioned once that he was a fellow at a Cambridge college, but he spoke to me most about India."

As he put his questions Clive leaned forward, and seemed to become more keenly interested with every answer. He now turned and gave a hard look at the bluff man whom he had called Mr. Merriman. The rest of the company were silent.

"Do you happen to know whether he went up to the Hall?" asked Clive.

"Sir Willoughby's? I met him several times walking in that neighborhood, but I don't think he went to the Hall. He did not appear to know Sir Willoughby.--And yet, sir, I remember now that I heard Diggle and Grinsell talking about the squire the night I first saw them together at the Four Alls."

"And you were with this--Diggle, in London, Mr. Burke?"

"Yes, sir."

Desmond began to feel uncomfortable. Clive had evidently not recognized him before, and he was hoping that the unfortunate incident in Billiter Street would not be recalled. Clive's next words made him wish to sink into the floor.

"Do you remember, Mr. Burke, in London, throwing yourself in the way of a gentleman that was in pursuit of your friend Mr. Diggle, and bringing him to the ground?"

"Yes, sir, I did, and I am sorry for it."

Desmond did not like the grim tone of Clive's voice; he wished he would address him as "my lad" instead of "Mr. Burke."

"That was a bad start, let me say, Mr. Burke--an uncommonly bad start."

"Oh come, Mr. Clive!" broke in Mr. Merriman, "say no more about that. The boy was in bad company: 'twas not his fault. In truth, 'twas my own fault: I am impetuous; the sight of that scoundrel was too much for me.

"I bear you no grudge, my lad, though I had a bump on my head for a week afterwards. Had you not tripped me I should have run my rapier through the villain, and there would like have been an end of me."

"Shall I tell the boy, Mr. Merriman?" said Clive.

"Not now, not now," said Merriman quickly.

The other gentlemen, during this dialogue, had been discussing the information they had gained about Gheria fort.

"Well," said Clive, "you are lucky, let me tell you, Mr. Burke, to be out of this Diggle's clutches. By the way, have you seen him since he sold you to the Pirate?"

"He came a few days before I escaped, and wanted me to come here as a spy. Angria promised me my freedom and a large sum of money."

"What's that?" cried Merriman. "Wanted you to come as a spy?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what did you say?"

"I told him he might do it himself."

"A palpable hit!" said Merriman with a grim laugh, "and a very proper answer. But he'll have more respect for his skin."

"Gentlemen," said Mr. Bourchier, "we have kept Mr. Burke talking so much that he hasn't had a mouthful of food. I think we might go out on the veranda and smoke our cigars while he takes some supper.

"Mr. Johnson, you've done most justice to my viands, I think. Perhaps you will join us."

The harbor master became purple in the face. He had in fact been eating and drinking with great gusto, taking advantage of the preoccupation of the company to insure that the excellent fare should not be wasted. He rose hurriedly and, with a sheepish look that scarcely fitted his cheerful features, followed his sarcastic host to the veranda. All the guests save Mr. Merriman accompanied Mr. Bourchier.

"They all want to talk shop; this expedition against the Pirate," said Mr. Merriman. "You and I can have a little chat."

Desmond was attracted by the open face of his new acquaintance, slightly disfigured, as he noticed, by a long scar on the left temple.

"You're plucky and lucky," continued Merriman, "and in spite of what Mr.

Clive calls your bad start in bowling me over, you'll do well."

His face clouded as he went on.

"That man Diggle: why should he have sold you to the Pirate: what had he against you?"

"I can not imagine, sir."

"You are lucky to have escaped him, as Mr. Clive said. I think--yes, I will tell you about him. His name is not Diggle; it is Simon Peloti. He is a nephew of Sir Willoughby's. His mother married a Greek, against her brother's wish; the man died when the child was a year old. As a boy Peloti was as charming a little fellow as one could wish: handsome, high spirited, clever. He did well at school, and afterwards at Cambridge: won a fellowship there. Then he went to the dogs--not all at once; men never do. He was absolutely without principle, and thought of nothing but his own ease and success. One thing led to another; at last, in the forty-five--"

He paused. After a moment he went on:

"I had a brother, my lad--"

He stopped again, his face expressing poignant grief.

"I know, sir," said Desmond. "Sir Willoughby told me."

"He told you! He did not mention Peloti?"

"No, sir; but I see it all now. It was Diggle--Peloti, I mean--who betrayed your brother. I understand now why the squire took no steps against Grinsell. His accomplice was Diggle."

He related the incident of the house breakers.

"Yes," said Merriman, "that throws a light on things. Peloti, I imagine, had previously seen the squire, and tried to get money from him. Sir Willoughby refused: he gave him a thousand pounds ten years ago on condition he left the country and did not return. So the villain resolved to rob him. 'Twas fortunate indeed you appeared in time. That is the reason for his hating you."

"There was another, sir," said Desmond with some hesitation. "He thought I was hankering after the squire's property--aiming at becoming his heir.

'Twas ridiculous, sir; such an idea never entered my head."

"I see. Peloti came to India and got employment in the Company's service at Madras. But he behaved so badly that he had to be turned out--he said Mr. Clive hounded him out. What became of him after that I don't know.

But let us leave the miserable subject. Tell me, what are your ideas?

What are you going to do, now that you are a free man once more? Get another berth as supercargo?"

His eyes twinkled as he said this.