Early next day Admiral Watson himself rode down to the harbour to inspect the grab. He was so much pleased with her that he offered to buy her for the service. Before the day was out Desmond found himself in possession of seven thousand rupees. After paying the Marathas the wages agreed upon, he proceeded to divide the balance. He retained two shares for himself, and gave each of the men who had escaped with him an equal part. No one was more surprised than Fuzl Khan when he received his share in full. He had expected to get the punishment he knew he well deserved. But Desmond, against the advice of the superintendent, determined to overlook the man’s misconduct. He went further. At his request Admiral Watson gave him a place on the grab. The Gujarati seemed overwhelmed by this generosity on the part of a man he had wronged, and for the nonce breaking through his usual morose reserve, he thanked Desmond, awkwardly indeed, but with manifest sincerity. The other men were no less delighted with their good fortune. The sum they each received made them rich men for life. None was more elated than Surendra Nath. It happened that Mr. Merriman came on board to see the grab at the moment when Desmond was distributing the prize money. Desmond noticed a curious expression on the Babu’s face, and he was compelled to laugh when the man, after a moment’s hesitation, walked up to Mr. Merriman, and with a strange mixture of humility and importance said: "I wish you a very good morning, your honour." "Good gad!--Surendra Nath Chuckerbutti! I’m uncommonly glad to see you." 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."