Clive had, in fact, without knowing it, laid the
foundations of a vast empire.
At intervals during the two years, scraps of news about Clive filtered
through to his birthplace. His father had left the neighborhood, and
Styche Hall was now in the hands of a stranger, so that Desmond hardly
dared to hope that he would have an opportunity of seeing his idol. But,
information having reached the court of directors that all was not going
well in India, their eyes turned at once to Clive as the man to set
things right. They requested him to return to India as Governor of Fort
St. David, and, since a good deal of the trouble was caused by quarrels
as to precedence between the king's and the Company's officers, they
strengthened his hands by obtaining for him a lieutenant colonel's
commission from King George.
Clive was nothing loath to take up his work again. He had been somewhat
extravagant since his arrival in England; great holes had been made in
the fortune he had brought back; and he was still a young man, full of
energy and ambition. What was Desmond's ecstasy, then, to learn that his
hero, on the eve of his departure, had accepted an invitation to the town
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.
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