"No, my young firebrand; against fighting. You needn’t look so chopfallen. There’ll be a fight before long; but we’re going to run no risks. We’ll wait till the monsoon is over and we can collect enough men to smash the Subah." "Was that Colonel Clive’s decision?" "’Twas indeed. But let me tell you. There was a comical thing to start with. Lieutenant Hayter, one of Watson’s men, was bid to the Council, but the nincompoop was huffed because he wasn’t allowed precedence of the Company’s captains. These naval men’s airs are vastly amusing. He took himself off. Then Mr. Clive put the case; fight at once, or wait. Against the custom, he voted himself first--against immediate action. Then he asked me and Grant in turn; we voted with him. ’Twas Eyre Coote’s turn next; he voted t’other way, and gave his reasons--uncommonly well, I must admit. He said our men were in good spirits, and had been damped enough by the rains. The Frenchman Law might come up and join the Nawab, and then every froggy who entered our service after Chandernagore would desert and fight against us. We’re so far from Calcutta that ’twould be difficult to protect our communications. Those were his reasons. I watched Clive while Coote was speaking; he stuck his lips together and stared at him; and, have you noticed? he squints a trifle when he looks hard. Well, the voting went on, and ended as I said--twelve against immediate action, seven for." "How did the Bengal men vote?" "I’m bound to say, for--except Le Beaume. ’Twas the Madras men who outvoted ’em." "Well, with all respect, sir, I think the opinion of the Bengal men, who know the people and the country, ought to have outweighed the opinion of strangers. Still, it would be difficult to oppose Colonel Clive." Further conversation was cut short by the arrival of a messenger summoning Desmond to attend the colonel. "Where is he?" he asked. "Under a clump of trees beyond the camp, sir. He’s been there by himself an hour or more." Desmond hurried off. On the way he met Major Coote. "Hullo, Burke," cried the major; "you’ve heard the news?" "Yes, and I’m sorry for it." "All smoke, my dear boy, all smoke. Colonel Clive has been thinking it over, and has decided to disregard the decision of the Council and cross the river at sunrise to-morrow." Desmond could not refrain from flinging up his hat and performing other antics expressive of delight; he was caught in the act by Clive himself, who was returning to his tent. "You’re a madcap, Burke," he said. "Come to my tent."