Desmond became the object of much kindly attention from the Company's servants and their families. Everyone was eager to hear from his own lips the story of his adventures, and invitations to dinners and routs and card parties poured upon him. He accepted one or two and politely excused himself from the rest, not from any want of sociability, but from motives of prudence. His kind host had already given him a friendly warning; some of the writers and younger servants of the Company were wild spirits, and spent more time than was good for them in cards and revels. On the evening of the third day after his arrival he went down to the river to watch the arrival of some country vessels. There was the usual crowd at the ghat, and as Desmond gradually worked his way through it he suddenly saw, just in front of him, two men whose backs were very familiar. They were in the dress of seamen: one was tall and thin, the other broad and brawny, and Desmond did not need his glimpse of the iron hook to be sure that the men were none other than his old friend Bulger and Mr. Toley, the melancholy mate. They were standing side by side watching in silence the arrival of the boats. 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.