One of Clive's Heroes Part 60

"And forgotten your instructions?"

"No, sir. Monsieur Law was advancing from Patna: Peloti was coming ahead to inform the Nawab of his approach. But the whole country knows of your victory; the news reached Monsieur Law, and he at once turned back. The messenger he sent to inform Peloti of his change of plan came too late."

"Indeed! What was Peloti about?"

"He was killed in the fight, sir."

"A good riddance!" exclaimed Clive impetuously. Then a far-away look came into his eyes; his expression softened. "Poor wretch!" he said in an undertone. "How many did his men muster, Burke?"

"Nearly sixty, sir."

"And yours?"

"A score of sepoys, sir; but I had two seamen with me: Bulger, whom you know; and Mr. Toley, an American, mate of one of Mr. Merriman's ships.

They were worth a dozen others."

Clive grunted again.

"Well, go and tell Mrs. Merriman I'll be glad to wait on her. And look here, Burke: you may consider yourself a captain in the Company's service from this day. Come now, I'm very busy: go and give Mrs.

Merriman my message, and take care that next time you are sent on special service you are not drawn off on any such mad expedition. Come to me to-morrow."

Desmond trod on air as he left the house. Clive's impulsiveness had never before seemed to him such an admirable quality.

As he went into the street he became aware from the excited state of the crowd that something had happened. Meeting a sepoy he inquired, and learnt that Siraj-uddaula had just been brought into the city. The luckless Nawab had arrived in his boat close to Rajmahal, and, with the recklessness that characterized him, he had gone ash.o.r.e while his servants prepared a meal. Though disguised in mean clothes he had been recognized by a fakir who happened to be at the very spot where he landed. The man had a grudge against him; his ears and nose had been cut off some time before by the Nawab's orders. Hastening into Rajmahal he had informed the governor, who sent a guard at once to seize the unhappy prince and bring him to Murshidabad.

Before the next morning dawned Siraj-uddaula was dead. Mir Jafar handed him to his son Miran with strict orders to guard him carefully. Acting on a mocking suggestion of Miran, a courtier named Muhammad Beg took a band of armed men to the Nawab's room, and hacked him to death. Next morning his mutilated body was borne on an elephant's back through the streets, and it was known to his former subjects that the prince who had ruled them so evilly was no more. Such was the piteous end, in his twenty-sixth year, of Siraj-uddaula.

Immediately on arriving in Murshidabad, Desmond had sent a kasid to Calcutta to inform Mr. Merriman that his wife and daughter had been found and were safe. The merchant set off at once on horseback and arrived in the midst of preparations for the return of the army to Calcutta. Desmond was present at his meeting with the ladies; the scene brought a lump into his throat, and his embarra.s.sment was complete when one and all overwhelmed him with praise and thanks.

Nor was Surendra Nath forgotten. His readiness and courage at the critical moment had undoubtedly saved the ladies; Mr. Merriman declared that he would henceforth have a higher opinion of the Bengali character.

The Babu beamed with joy when his employer announced that he would give him the _Hormuzzeer_ and a considerable part of his business.

"I change the name to _Merriman_, sir," he said, "and my family will hold that name in veneration and esteem unto third and fourth generations."

A few days later a long procession of three hundred boats, laden with the money, plate and jewels that had been handed over to the British, set off with colours flying, amid strains of martial music, down the river to Calcutta. Every man who had taken part in the expedition had a share of the vast treasure. Desmond found himself richer by 3,000.

Calcutta was _en fete_ when the expedition returned. Desmond was surprised to see how much had already been done to repair the ruin wrought by the Nawab. A new city was rising from the ruins.

Congratulations were poured on the victors; and though now, as always, Clive had to contend with the jealousies of lesser men, there was none but had to admit that he was a great man who deserved well of his country.

Mr. Merriman at once completed the winding up of his affairs, begun months before. His recent troubles had much aged him; India was to him now a hateful country, and he decided to return to England immediately with his wife and daughter. He tried to persuade Desmond to accompany him, but in vain.

"'Tis very good of you, sir," said Desmond warmly; "you have done so much for me. But Mr. Clive has made me a captain: his work is not yet done, and I do not feel that I can leave him until I have done something to justify his confidence in me."

"Well, boys will be boys. I have made a fortune here: I suppose you want to do the same. 'Tis natural. But don't stay in India as long as I have. I don't want to lose sight of you. You have done me the best service man ever did: you have avenged my brother and restored to me all that I held dearest in the world. I love you as a son, Desmond; I wish you were my son indeed, my boy."

Desmond looked a little uncomfortable.

"May I venture----" he began hesitatingly; "do you think, in some years time, if I get on here, I might----"

"Well?"

"Do you think I might--in short, that I might have a chance of becoming your son, sir?"

"Eh? Is that it? Mr. Warren Hastings asked me the same question the other day, Desmond. You can't both have her, you know. What does Phyllis say?"

"I--I haven't asked her, sir."

"Quite right. You're only a boy. Well, Hastings is to remain as a.s.sistant to Mr. Scrafton, our new agent at Murshidabad. You remain as a.s.sistant--or is it rival, eh?--to Mr. Clive. You're both out of the way. Phyllis may prefer Bulger."

"Bulger!"

"Yes. Didn't you know? Phyllis has taken a fancy to him; that hook of his appears to be a most fascinating feature; and he will accompany us home."

Desmond laughed a little awkwardly.

"I hope----" he began.

"He won't hook her? But there, I mustn't make sport of such a serious matter. Go on as you have begun, my dear lad, and I promise you, when you come home, that if Phyllis hasn't found some one already to her liking, you shall have all the influence I can exert with the minx."

"Thank you, sir: I couldn't ask for more. There's another thing: do you think you could do anything for Mr. Toley? He's a capital fellow."

"I know it. I have antic.i.p.ated you. Toley is appointed captain of the _Jane_, an Indiaman that arrived the other day; her captain died of scurvy on the way out. She'll sail for England next week; we go with her, and so does that villain Barker, who'll get his deserts when he reaches London. The _Good Intent_ is broken up; her interloping is over for good and all. But come, my boy, sure 'tis time we dressed: Admiral Watson likes punctuality, and I promise you he'll give us a capital dinner. A word in your ear: Phyllis is to sit between you and Hastings.

You can't eat him, at any rate."

A week later Desmond went down to the Company's ghat to see the _Jane_ sail. Mr. Toley, in his brand new uniform, looked more melancholy than ever, and Phyllis Merriman made a little grimace when she saw for the first time the captain under whose charge she was to sail for home.

"Don't be alarmed," said Desmond, laughing. "The sadder he looks, I believe the happier he is. Silas Toley is a fine seaman and a true gentleman.--I wonder if we shall ever meet again, Miss Merriman?"

"I wonder, Mr. Burke."

"I shall hear about you, I hope."

"Dear me! 'tis very unlikely. Father hates putting pen to paper. 'Tis far more likely I shall hear of you, Mr. Burke, doing terrible things among these poor Indians--and tigers: I am sure you must want to shoot a tiger."

"You shall have my first skin--if I may send it."

"Mamma will be charmed, I am sure; though, indeed, she may have too many of them, for we have the same promise from--let me see--Mr. Lushington, Mr. Picard, Mr. Hastings, and----"

"All aboard!" sang out a voice from the deck of the vessel.

Phyllis gave Desmond her hand, and looked at last into his eyes. What he read in hers filled him with contentment. She ran across the plank and joined her father and mother, to whom Desmond had already said his adieus. At the last moment Bulger came up puffing, a miscellaneous collection of curiosities dangling from his hook.

"Good-bye, sir," he said, giving Desmond a hearty grip. Then he shut one eye and jerked his head in the direction of the vessel. "Never you fear, sir: I'll keep my weather eye open. Missy have took an uncommon fancy to this here little fish-hook o' mine, and 'tis my belief I'll keep her hangin' on to it, sir, nevertheless and notwithstandin' and all that, till you comes home covered with gore and glory. I may be wrong."

He tumbled on deck. Then amid cheers, with flags flying and handkerchiefs waving, the good ship moved from the ghat into the swelling river.