own
of his birth, there to be entertained by the court leet. From the bailiff
and the steward of the manor down to the javelin men and the ale taster,
official Market Drayton was all agog to do him honor. Desmond looked
forward eagerly to this red letter day.

His brother, as a yeoman of standing, was invited to the banquet, and it
seemed to Desmond that Richard took a delight in taunting him, throwing
cold water on his young enthusiasm, ironically commenting on the mistake
someone had made in not including him among the guests. His crowning
stroke of cruelty was to forbid the boy to leave the house on the great
evening, so that he might not even obtain a glimpse of Clive. But this
was too much: Desmond for the first time deliberately defied his
guardian, and though he suffered the inevitable penalty, he had seen and
heard his hero, and was content.

Chapter 3: In which Mr. Marmaduke Diggle talks of the Golden East; and our
hero interrupts an interview, and dreams dreams.

Sore from his flogging, Desmond, when he slept at last, slept heavily.
Richard Burke was a stickler for early rising, and admitted no excuses.
When his brother did not appear at the usual hour Richard went to his
room, and, smiting with his rough hand the boy's bruised shoulders,
startled him to wakefulness and pain.

"Now, slug-a-bed," he said, "you have ten minutes for your breakfast,
then you will foot it to the Hall and see whether Sir Willoughby has
returned or is expected."

Turning on his heel, he went out to harry his laborers.

Desmond, when he came down stairs, felt too sick to eat. He gulped a
pitcher of milk, then set off for his two-mile walk to the Hall. He was
glad of the errand. Sir Willoughby Stokes, the lord of the manor, was an
old gentleman of near seventy years, a good landlord, a persistent
Jacobite, and a confirmed bachelor. By nature genial, he was subject to
periodical attacks of the gout, which made him terrible. At these times
he betook himself to Buxton, or Bath, or some other spa, and so timed his
return that he was always good tempered on rent day, much to the relief
of his tenants. He disliked Richard Burke as a man as much as he admired
him as a tenant; but he had taken a fancy to Desmond, lent him books from
his library, took him out shooting when the weather and Richard
permitted, and played chess with him sometimes of a rainy afternoon. His
housekeeper said that Master Desmond was the only human b