He shook hands warmly, a mark of condescension which made the Babu beam with gratification.
"Why," continued Merriman, "we'd given you up for dead long ago. So you're the plucky and ingenious fellow who did so much to help Mr. Burke in the famous escape! Surendra Nath was one of my best clerks, Mr. Burke. His father is my head clerk for Company's business. He hasn't been the same man since you disappeared. You must tell me your story. Come up to Mr. Bowman's house on the Green to-night; I am staying there."
"I shall be most glad to return to my desk in Calcutta, your honour," said the Babu. "But I do not like the sea. It has no sympathy with me. I think of accomplishing the journey by land."
"Good heavens, man! it would take you a year at the least, if you wasn't swallowed by a tiger or strangled by a Thug on the way. You'll have to go by water, as you came."
The Babu's face fell.
"That is the fly in the ointment, your honour. But I will chew majum and bestow myself in the cabin; thus perhaps I may avoid squeamishness. By the kindness of Burke Sahib I have a modicum of money, now a small capital; and I hope, with your honour's permission, to do trifling trade for myself."
"Certainly," said Merriman with a laugh. "You'll be a rich man yet, Surendra Nath. Well, don't forget; you'll find me at Mr. Bowman's on the Green at eight o'clock."
CHAPTER THE EIGHTEENTH
In which Angria is astonished; and our hero begins to pay off old scores.
Time sped quickly. Desmond made the best use of his opportunities of learning navigation under Captain King and the superintendent, and before two months had expired was pronounced fit to act as mate on the finest East Indiaman afloat. He took this with a grain of salt. The fact was that his adventures, the modesty with which he deprecated all allusions to his part in the escape from Gheria, and the industry with which he worked, won him the goodwill of all; he was a general favourite with the little European community of Bombay.