igher than a lieutenant in the army--I suppose
you know that, Burke?" said Clive.

"Yes, sir."

"And you're only a cadet. From today you are a lieutenant, my lad. I am
pleased with you, and whatever his enemies say of Bob Clive, no one ever
said of him that he forgot a friend."

The forces proceeded to Calcutta next day, and retook the town with
surprising ease. Manik Chand was so much alarmed by seeing the effect of
the big guns of the fleet that he abandoned the place almost without
striking a blow, and when the British troops entered they were too late
even to make any prisoners save a few of the ragtag and bobtail in the
rear.

Mr. Merriman returned to Calcutta a few days later. Desmond was grieved
to observe how rapidly he was aging. In spite of Clive's recommendation
to keep silence he could not refrain from telling his friend what he had
discovered about the missing ladies; and he did not regret it, for the
knowledge that they were alive and, when last heard of, out of Peloti's
clutches, acted like a tonic. Merriman was all eagerness to set off and
search for them himself; but Desmond pointed out the danger of such a
course, and he reluctantly agreed to wait a little longer, and see
whether any news could be obtained during the operations which Clive was
planning against the Nawab.

Meanwhile, Desmond learned from Bulger what had happened to him since the
fall of Calcutta. He was one of the hundred and forty-six thrown into the
Black Hole.

"'Tis only by the mercy of the Almighty I'm here today," he said
solemnly. "I saw what 'twould be as soon as the door of that Black Hole
was locked, and me and some others tried to force it. 'Tweren't no good.
Mr. Holwell--he's a brave man, an' no mistake--begged an' prayed of us
all to be quiet; but Lor' bless you, he might ha' saved his breath. 'Twas
a hot night; we soon began to sweat most horrible an' feel a ragin'
thirst. We took off most of our clothes, an' waved our hats to set the
air a-movin'; which 'twas hard enough work, 'cos we was packed so tight.
I en't a-goin' to tell you all the horrors o' that night, sir; I'd like
uncommon to forget 'em, though I don't believe I never shall. 'Twas so
awful that many a poor wretch begged of the Moors outside to fire on 'em.
Worst was when the old jamadar put skins o' water in at the window. My
God! them about me fought like demons, which if I hadn't flattened myself
against the wall I should ha' been crushed or trodd