Chapter V: Part 5

'These frequent successful raids, varied only by the occasional abduction or violation of some unhappy female, put the finishing touch, the crowning halo, to the fame and glory of this superlative hero. That MacC., being a polished gentleman, not destitute of humanity, frank, and to the last point tenacious of his word, brave and generous, should consider his descent from the red-handed robber and murderer as a high distinction and a high honour may seem strange, but so it was.

'It is in all cases useless to argue against facts, and there are but few facts more distinct or positive than the pride with which the large majority of those whose birth enables them to do so deduce their descent from some iron-handed robber or murderer, provided he lived a long time ago. Time, it would appear, converts crime into virtue. If any warrior, knight, or lord committed, or attempted to commit, in these days, the crimes that his ancestors committed with impunity, he would be hanged or shot, and would, besides, incur the detestation of society.

'Colonel MacC. was proud of his name and his long line of ancestry, even though it included the red-handed gentleman, and many other smaller lights who did their best to emulate that worthy's achievements. Sometimes, when Colonel MacC. stayed longer at the mess-table than was his wont, he used to remark that the service had greatly deteriorated since he had entered it, and when the natural inquiry, "How so, Colonel?" or, "In what respect?" had been elicited, "the hidden anguish of his soul" would peep forth something in this wise: "Why, you see nowadays they put any man in command of a regiment. They only ask if he can purchase; if he can, the thing is settled, he gets the step. It signifies nothing whether his father was butcher or baker, tinker or tailor; if he can pay, he gets the step, even though it may be the command of the regiment; but in my young days a man's name did stand for something. They would not in those days have put Jack, Tom, or Harry in such a position, particularly when they had a man whose family was known, and who was in other respects qualified to take the command."

'Poor Colonel MacC.! he could not forget or forgive his supercession, but nevertheless he had many good qualities, and was a man to be liked and respected. He could also be generous even to a very contemptible character, as the following instance proves:

'Colonel MacC. was a thorough sportsman, an excellent man for cross-country, whether it was after a fox at home, or after a jackal in India; a capital shot, whether for tiger or elephant, or for partridge, pheasant, or snipe, and a man who, after his father's death, kept up a noble stud of horses. At Madras, at Hyderabad, at Bangalore, wherever there was a race, Colonel MacC.'s horses were entered. From inherited property, from being a bachelor, and from his position in the regiment, by which he received more pay than he spent, he became the richest man in it; he was, in consequence, enabled to indulge his desire to back his own horses, or to bet on others as he pleased, and this he did pretty heavily. At one of the Bangalore races, I cannot call to mind the year, Colonel MacC. had a bet of 3,000 rupees with a Mr. ----, an officer of one of the native regiments there stationed. The race came off, and the Colonel's horse won. Mr. ---- immediately gave the Colonel a cheque on Messrs. Arbuthnot and Co. for the amount, and the matter was apparently settled; but a few days after the Colonel received a letter from Messrs. A., stating that they had in their possession no funds belonging to Mr. ----. This personage, when called on to explain his conduct, pleaded that he thought the agents at Madras did that sort of thing. He wrote a very extraordinary letter, covering four sides of paper, and concluding thus: "That if they did not forgive him, to-morrow's sun should smile upon his grave." Colonel MacC. laughed immoderately, and when the other members of the racing committee, or most of them, said, "MacC., you must bring this gentleman forward," the Colonel replied: "Not I; he's too paltry a creature for me to touch. Besides, he has afforded me a hearty laugh, which one does not enjoy every day. He will not show his handsome face amongst us again, that you may rely on; and if he takes my advice, he will get himself moved out of Bangalore as soon as practicable." And thus the matter ended; the Colonel lost his money, Mr. ---- his character.

'About this time, or shortly after, it became known that a Highland regiment was to pass through Bangalore _en route_ to Hyderabad--I should say Secunderabad, as the cantonment is called--situated about three miles from the native city, Hyderabad. The natives, who had heard highly-laudatory accounts of the Highlanders, were greatly excited. The noble qualities of these soldiers on the field of battle were magnified in their minds, and the dress they wore was described as grand and beautiful, surpassing everything they had yet seen of the Europeans. Many thousands of natives went out several miles to meet the regiment on the morning it was expected to reach Bangalore, and their enthusiasm knew no bounds when they beheld the stature of the men, their kilts, their plaids, and plumes. At last, as the regiment approached the cantonment, the pipers struck up, and this so enchanted the natives that they were absolutely beside themselves with delight. The regiment was halted as soon as it was known that the General and staff, with all the _élite_ of the station and a great number of fair equestrians, were coming out to greet them. Every company dressed up, leaving between them the exact distances prescribed. Every man brushed the dust off his brogues or sandals; in short, everything was done that could be done to impress beholders.

'As the General and his party came in sight the pipes struck up again, and the regiment resumed its march. The General and staff drew up by the side of the road, and the regiment marched by, saluting; after which, accompanied by the whole cortège--General, staff, officers, ladies, and natives--the corps marched on to the racecourse, where their tents had been pitched. "Really," said a young Scotchman, who had lately joined the 13th Dragoons, "if I wasn't a mounted man, I'd like to belong to a Highland regiment." "Well," said another, not quite so deeply smitten with the appearance of the kilts, "I dare say any one of their young ones will exchange with you if you only make the offer." "Aye, McDougal; that will just suit you," said Vivian, "as you are such a devoted admirer of Signori Rossini, Verdi and Co." "I don't quite make you out," replied McDougal. "Why, don't you see," said Vivian, "you'll always have such glorious music; the natives are so mad about the pipes that they one and all declare they never thought, before they heard them, 'that the English knew anything about music.'" The young Scot, who was an accomplished performer on the violin, and perfectly fanatic in his admiration of Italian music, did not at first seem to relish the joke; but at last he joined in the laugh, protesting, however, that there was a time and place for everything, and that though the exquisite strains of "Lucia di Lammermoor" were fitter for the drawing-room or the opera, he would prefer the music of the pipes on the field of battle. "Well spoken, McDougal," said Colonel MacC.; "you could not have made a better distinction."

'Comparisons of the music of the pipes with that of the natives furnished abundance of fun and amusement during the evening, reference being constantly made to the ignorance of the English as to music, which, in the estimation of Hindoo critics, was profound, and was only relieved from being complete by the unexpected sounds they had heard that morning. At last the subject was allowed to drop, being reserved for other like fitting occasions, while it was recognised, _nemine contradicente_, to be "an argument for a week, laughter for a month, and a good jest for ever."

'The provoking malice and wicked fun towards Scotchmen, of comparing the pipes with the music of the natives of India, cannot be apparent to those who have never been in that country. Therefore the following attempt to convey a faint idea of the peculiar attractions of Hindoo music has been inscribed--first with the view of enlightening minds (or ears) uninstructed by experience; secondly with the view of giving point to the preceding remarks. The instruments on which native performers display their powers and skill are gongs and tom-toms, horns of different kinds, and sometimes a kind of hurdy-gurdy. I do not call to mind any others. By means of the gongs and tom-toms they mark time, and this is really the only approach (European ears being judges) to what we understand by the word "music"; but even this is so outraged by the stunning crashing noise made by these detestable contrivances, that the effect which would otherwise be produced by the regular recurrence of sounds at stated intervals is lost; while the horns and the trumpets, if such a name is allowable, and the squeaking, shrieking, wailing, grunting sounds produced by the instruments referred to, make up a _tout ensemble_ that must be heard to be imagined. Every performer plays his own tune, or rather produces a series of sounds one only more diabolical than another--if such assaults on the sense of hearing can be called a tune--on his own instrument, and every man performs in his own key. The result is the most hideous and frightful discord that can be produced. If the gongs and tom-toms are in the ascendant, the noise is deafening. If the small pipes and horns predominate, the conversation of cats in the gutter, or the howling of jackals, roving about at night, or the screaming of women and children, or all three mingled together, are simulated. A child, once very dear to me, described the effect produced on his ears by the performance of a number of native musicians in these words: "Oh, there's the crying band again!"

'Not long after the Highlanders had passed through Bangalore, a young Scot, not a Highlander, was ordered to do duty with the 13th Dragoons, during the leave of absence granted to Dr. Clark, the regimental assistant-surgeon; two months later on his term of absence was drawing to a close, and consequently Dr. T., the temporary substitute, would, on its termination, be sent to do duty with an infantry corps, and lose the climate of Bangalore and one hundred rupees a month. All of these unpleasant consequences the said Dr. T. was naturally anxious to avert, or, at the worst, to postpone. He had, with this in view, some time back written to his friends at Madras to look about them and get him a strong letter to Colonel MacC.; they accordingly did so, and procured a _strong letter_ from some Highland gentleman who either knew or boasted a fifty-ninth cousinship with Colonel MacC. The strong letter was presented the morning after its receipt with the required number of bows, and with the reverence supposed to be needful. All which I grieve to say were utterly thrown away on Colonel MacC.; he took the letter, and looked at the bowing youth who brought it, booted and spurred and buttoned up to the throat, with a scarcely concealed smile, pointed to a chair, and read his friend's communication. When he had concluded it, he refolded it, put it carefully on the table, and then, turning to Dr. T., said, "I fear Anstruther has put himself and you to trouble for nothing. In the first place, I never ask favours of anyone; and secondly, if I did, and you were my own son, I could not ask anything in the quarter you point at." Poor David T. was not a little taken aback at this rebuff, as the longitude of his countenance plainly announced; he got up, hoped he had not intruded, and begged to be excused if he had done so, made another of his best bows, and was about to beat a retreat, when Colonel MacC., whose somewhat sarcastic expression of countenance did not reach beyond the surface, said, "Sit down, Mr. T., I've something to say to ye. I can't serve you in the way that Anstruther asks, but maybe I can put you in the way of serving yourself." T.'s ears became doubly attentive. Colonel MacC. continued, "You have, of course, called on Colonel B.?" "Yes, Colonel, but he was out." "Oh, you found him out! Well, you took a shorter time to do it than I did; but never mind that: did you leave a card for the lady?" "No, Colonel, I did not." "And pray, sir, why did you not? Don't you know it's your duty to pay your respects to your commanding officer!" "But so I did, Colonel." "But I tell ye, so you did not! There, now be off, and try to make out the riddle, which I can plainly see you don't yet comprehend. Try and translate it into practice. You'll find the advice good if you know how to use it."

'A great deal more was said, which I do not feel called upon to repeat. Poor David T. departed in a charming state of conglomeration, and he confessed to my brother, to whom, under the seal of profound secrecy, he reported the whole conversation, that when he left the Colonel's house he scarcely knew whether he was standing on his head or his heels. My brother, after indulging in a hearty laugh, asked him if he had yet paid one visit recommended to him. "No," said David, "I'll take care how I do that!" "But, then," returned my brother, "you won't be able to see Colonel MacC. again." "No," replied David, "I'll take care how I do that, too!"

'David T. was in many respects a very good fellow, but he took everything literally, and actually had, I believe, a sort of horror at a joke, particularly if he did not understand it, which was commonly the case. He was not a fire-eating Irishman, or he would have rivalled Sir Brallaghan O'Callaghan in the play, who says, "And if you shall say anything that I will not understand," etc. David, however, did not resort to the _ultima ratio_ when he did not understand; he waited to have the joke explained. He had, perhaps, never heard that wit explained is no longer wit; but, whether he had or not, neither the wit nor the explanation ever seemed to disorder his equanimity. The only witty story I ever heard him tell, was one of Professor B., who was one of David's masters when attending the classes at Edinburgh. This gentleman was in the habit of enlivening his lectures by asking questions of his pupils. He had, on the occasion under reference, been using some mechanical illustrations to show that if the spring of a machine be wound up too tight, the whole apparatus will go too fast, unless a counterbalancing force be brought into play. Thus if the weights are not sufficient, the clock goes too fast; and on the other hand, if the weights are too great, the clock stops, or goes too slow. In the more perfect arrangements, a pendulum supersedes the weights, and can be lengthened or shortened to produce like effects. "Similar laws," said the Professor, "obtain in morals and in physics. If a youth is going too fast you put him under restrictions--in other words, you put more weight on him, and _vice versâ_. Now," turning round to one of the students, he said, "if you found a youth who was under your charge, a younger brother, for instance, not going quick enough, in fact--going decidedly too slow, what would you do?" "I wad shorten his pend'lum, sir," replied the unlucky wight. Here roars of laughter put an end to the sentence and the lecture; as this little anecdote puts an end to our further knowledge of David, who was a steady and solid practitioner of medicine, painstaking and zealous in his duty, a good husband, a good father, and a good Presbyterian. He died of cholera, poor fellow! at Trichinopoly, lamented by all who knew him, except the snipes, who certainly must have rejoiced when they heard of his death, since when alive he was never known to miss one of them.

'Most men who possess adventitious advantages, such as rank, wealth, position, and power, indulge in certain peculiarities of manner, speech, or habit; and the reason is not far to seek. They are so independent that they consult only their own fancies. Colonel MacC. was no exception to the rule just noticed; he had some peculiarities of manner as well as speech, and, of course, these were well known to the men of the regiment. Peculiarities of manner no doubt they caricatured amongst themselves, but could not show that they did so. With peculiarities of speech it was different, and the men hit on a method of amusing themselves with them that was certainly ingenious.

'Colonel MacC., it has been already said, was a capital horseman, and when out with the regiment always liked to see every manoeuvre executed in the most rapid manner. Whenever the men were not quick enough to satisfy his judgment, he used to indulge in this form of reprehension: "Move, you beggars, move!" By degrees it became familiar to the men, and then they commented on it by purchasing a parrot, which, being a young and teachable bird, was not long in learning and mastering his lesson, "Move, you beggars, move!" The bird soon became proud of his proficiency, and wanted little or no coaxing to make him display it. At any time it was sufficient to say: "Good-morning, pretty Polly! what does the Colonel say?" to bring out, "Move, you beggars, move!" to the great delight of the men, women, and children of the regiment; but every amusement or enjoyment has its drawbacks. On one particular occasion, when Colonel B. was on leave and Colonel MacC. in command, an inspection of barracks, hospital, etc., was ordered. Accordingly Colonel MacC., with all the officers present with the regiment, repaired to the barracks. While engaged in this duty everyone's ears were startled by the ill-timed sounds, "Move, you beggars, move!" No one took any notice, but glances were exchanged all round. By-and-by "Move, you beggars, move!" was repeated more emphatically than before; this was too much for the Colonel, who called out, "Who is that? who has the audacity to interrupt the duty in this manner?" No one answered. "Sergeant-major," called out the Colonel, "who is that? I insist upon knowing! Tell me at once who it is that is guilty of this insolence? Whoever it is, put him under arrest immediately! What are you standing there for, like a fool? Did you not hear me say put the fellow under arrest?" "Yes, sir," said the Sergeant, "but I don't think it's any of the men." "Don't think it's any of the men; what do you mean? Is it one of the women or children that dares to act in this way?" "No, sir, it's none of the women or children." "Who is it, then? Take care, Hopkins, solitary confinement and reduction to the ranks will be unpleasant things for you to face after so many years' service; but it seems to me that you are going the right way to get them. Once more I say, who is it?" "I think it's the parrot, sir." "The parrot! What parrot? Whose parrot? Why don't you answer? Who owns the parrot?" "I think, sir, the bird belongs to the regiment." By this time Colonel MacC. had recovered his good-humour. "So it belongs to the regiment, does it? Well, take it away, and don't let it interrupt us again." Colonel MacC.'s good-humour on this occasion endeared him to the men so much that there was nothing they would not do to please him; and though they kept the bird, they took the greatest care to keep him away or silent whenever the Colonel visited the barracks.'

No. V.

THE PASSAGE-OF-ARMS BETWEEN COLONEL L. AND MRS. G.

During the year which passed before the Koorg War, and while Colonel L. was in command of the cantonment of Bangalore, a somewhat singular passage-of-arms took place between him and an old lady, Mrs. G., who was the widow of General G., who had, some six months before, died at Nagpore. This lady, having in earlier days dwelt at Bangalore, lost no time in quitting the dry, burning heat of the former locality for the delightful climate of the latter station. She had, through friends, secured a commodious bungalow, situated not far from the house afterwards occupied by the Commissioner for Mysore, and she had furnished her little house very nicely, and, in a word, made herself very comfortable. Having no family with her, her two sons being grown-up and both bearing commissions in the Company's Service, her means were ample for all her requirements, including her palankeen, carriage, and horses. Besides her pension she had her husband's savings, amounting to 8,000 Rs. or more.

She had inhabited the bungalow in question about three months, when she was surprised by a visit from the cantonment Staff-Officer, who came to announce to her that, by the new arrangement decided on by the General and officers commanding the cantonment, she would be obliged, on or before the 15th of the next month, to vacate her bungalow, as it, with several others, had been appropriated to the new staff-lines, and that he had come by order of the officer commanding the cantonment to give her due notice.

Mrs. G. replied that she was indebted to the officer commanding the cantonment for his politeness, but was sorry that Captain W. (the cantonment Staff-Officer) should have been put to trouble on her account. In a word, the politeness on both sides was perfect; everything was so sweet and agreeable that milk and honey could not exceed it.

The Staff-Officer--who was to the backbone of the unmitigated Pomposo breed, and who was generally known in the cantonment by the sobriquet of 'Immortal Jack,' being quite a young man at forty, dressing as such, although, to hide his premature baldness, he was obliged to wear a wig--retired quite delighted with his visit. He had sported his new staff uniform before the cantonment, and he had, as he thought, settled everything with Mrs. G., and so he reported to Colonel L.

Shortly after his departure, the lady sent for the houseman, who came at her call, making numerous profound salaams as he entered the house.

'Well, Veneaty,' said the lady, 'are you still desirous of selling your house? You told me when I first came here and took the remainder of Captain Turner's lease, if I recollect rightly, that you were willing to sell for 4,000 Rs. Is not that so?'

Now, Veneata-sawny, who was as cunning as a fox, having heard something of the projected staff-lines, answered with all the apparent simplicity of a child and all the practised skill of a lawyer: 'Missis please I sell. Missis like to buy, I like very much to sell.'

'Very good, Veneaty. You know my lease has only four years to run, and as I wish to make the house my own, I will speak to Mr. Cardoza, my lawyer, to draw up the necessary papers, and you can bring a vakeel, on your part, to see that all is right and just; and as soon as the papers are signed I will pay the money.'

'Missis very good lady. I do as missis tell. To-morrow I come--I and vakeel. Missis say what time.'

'Oh, you may come about ten o'clock; my breakfast will be finished before nine.' So Veneaty departed, after the usual salaams. Mrs. G. at once wrote to Mr. Cardoza, and on the morrow, a little before ten a.m., he repaired to his client's bungalow, and there found Veneata-sawny with his vakeel. A conversation something to this effect then took place.

The first question put to Veneaty by Mr. C. was: 'Have you obtained the General's permission to sell your bungalow, which is situate within the lines of the cantonment?'

'I had permission when I gave lease to Captain Turner five years before. Missis now got that lease.'

'That will not stand good now, I fear, as they are going to make new rules for the cantonment,' observed Mr. C.

'But, sar,' said the vakeel, 'Missis like to buy. Missis can sell again to Government.'

Now, this honest gentleman had ascertained that the utmost that could be got from the cantonment authorities, if they purchased, would be 2,000 Rs. He and his wily friend Veneaty were therefore strongly disposed to sell. Mrs. G. escaped the snare Veneaty had set for her through the caution of Mr. C, who ascertained the facts of the case at Captain W.'s office.

But though Mrs. G. did not buy, she held the lease of the house, and continued to inhabit it and to pay the rent as usual. On the 2nd or 3rd of the ensuing month, Veneaty again presented himself at Mrs. G.'s door with the usual salaams.

'Good-morning, Veneaty,' said Mrs. G.; 'come for your rent, I suppose.'

'Missis please to give, I take.'

'Here it is; count it,' said the lady, 'and see that it is right.'

'What for I count? Missis never make mistake.'

'But you must count to satisfy me.'

Veneaty had done this with his eye the moment he saw the rupees on the table, but he said: 'Missis give order, I count.' And count he did, as slowly and deliberately as a child.

'Well,' said the lady, 'is it right?'

'All right,' said Veneaty. 'Missis please take receipt.' Mrs. G. did so, and locked it up in her desk.

She then expected that the houseman would take his departure, but he continued standing at the table without offering to go. Then the lady said: 'What is it now, Veneaty? I see you have something more to say. What is it?'

'I no like to tell Missis; I too much fraiding.'

'But what are you afraid of?' said Mrs. G.

'Missis too much angry if I tell,' returned Veneaty.

'And if I am angry,' said Mrs. G. 'for I suspect what it is you wish to say, I shall not be angry with you.'

'Then I tell; but I too much sorry, not my fault.'

'What you want to say is,' said Mrs. G., 'that you want me to leave the house; is it not?'

'Missis never tell that word. I no want, but Mister Captain he too much want, therefore I tell; he tell too much; punish me you no leave the bungalow. What I do, I too much sorry.'

'Do not be afraid, Veneaty; he cannot punish you.'

'Missis how can tell. He tell Burra General Saib give order, and cantonment General Saib give order what I do.'

'You tell the Staff-Officer that you have asked me to leave the house; that will set you right.'

'But Mister Captain too much bobbery man; every man too much fraiding him.'

'Never mind what people say; you tell Captain W. that you have requested me to go out, and that I won't go.'

'No, Missis, I never tell that word. Mister Captain too much angry.'

'Very well,' said the lady, 'I will tell him myself; and I will also tell him that you have asked me to go out.'

'Missis too much good Missis, but I too much fraiding.'

'Well, Veneaty, never fear for me. I will take care of myself.'

Then Veneaty, with even greater reverence than usual, departed, thinking that Mrs. G. was a too-much brave woman.

Nothing fresh occurred till a day or two before the 15th, when Captain W. again made his appearance. Mrs. G. had in the meantime done nothing; everything was in its place, even to the vase of flowers. After the ordinary salutations, the Captain said: 'I fear you are driving things to the last moment, Mrs. G.; you have only to the 15th, by which time we must have the bungalow. I really fear you are putting yourself to unnecessary inconvenience.'

'Thank you very much,' returned Mrs. G.; 'I have not been put to any inconvenience.'

'But I fear you will be, if you don't make preparations in time.'

'Oh, never fear,' said the lady; 'I shall make preparations in time--that you may depend on.'

'Then I will take my leave with many thanks,' said Captain W.; 'you have relieved my mind very much.'

'You are very polite,'returned Mrs. G., 'but you have nothing to thank me for.'

'Oh, but indeed I have a good deal,' replied the Captain.

'Well, I am glad you think so,' said Mrs. G.; 'good-morning.'

'Good-morning,' said the gallant Captain, as he lifted his staff cap very gently for fear of displacing his wig, and galloped off.

On the morning of the 15th the same gallant officer appeared again, attended by a serjeant and several other people. He came to take possession of the bungalow, but this he found more difficult than he had anticipated. All the doors and windows were locked and fastened up except one window in the only upper room of the house, which was open, and at which Mrs. G. appeared.

'Really,' said Captain W., raising his cap, 'this is too bad, Mrs. G. You must pardon me for saying so, but it is too bad, after all the warnings you have had, and after the promises you have made.'

'I never made you any promise whatever,' said Mrs. G. 'You chose to put on my words a construction that suited your own ideas, and I tried to set you right; but you would not let me. I told you you had nothing to thank me for, but you persisted in doing so, somewhat to my amusement. Besides, I sent you word distinctly that I did not feel inclined to leave my house. Veneaty told me he had given you my message, but perhaps he did not speak the truth.'

'He did deliver your message, Mrs. G.,' said the Captain, 'but neither the General, nor the Colonel, nor myself thought for a moment that you really meant to act on it.'

'Well, sir,' said Mrs. G., 'you find your mistake; it is a pity that three such great men should fall into the same error, but by your own account so it is.'

'Well, ma'am, I am sorry you put me into such a painful position, that I feel I have no alternative. I must report your disregard of authority, and whatever happens, you must remember you brought it upon yourself.'

'Thank you, sir, for your advice; but, really, unless the Colonel and yourself resolve to burn my house over my head and me in it, I don't see what is likely to happen. I am a British subject, sir, although an unprotected woman. You threaten to break open my doors, and to expose my property outside the house, to be spoiled by sun and rain and night-dews; try it, sir, and lay yourself and your gallant chief open to a civil action in the Supreme Court. There the judges, thank Heaven! care not two pins for your cantonment law. You cannot bring me, being a woman, to a court-martial for disobedience to orders; and I am advised, by those who do know something of law, that as I came here before your new rules were made, and besides hold a lease granted under cantonment law five years ago, you cannot legally turn me out. Go home, sir, and think of some cunning way by which, as gentlemen, and men of honour, you can show courtesy and respect to an unprotected lady, the widow of a brother officer; turn over in your generous minds how by violence and intimidation you can effect that which you cannot effect by law.'

Here Captain Pomposo, all but frantic, called out: 'Mrs. G.--Mrs. G., pray consider what you say, pray have----' But Mrs. G. refused to consider anything, or to hear anything; she shut down the window and pulled down the blinds. The 'immortal' had nothing for it but to ride to Colonel L.'s house and report the success of his undertaking.

When Colonel L. heard the result of Captain W.'s attempt to take possession of the bungalow, he was utterly confounded--I might say almost horror-struck. Resistance to military authority in a military cantonment had never, even in his dreams, assumed a tangible shape, or appeared even as a distant or possible contingency; and now he had to face it as a positive, undeniable reality. Actually in a cold perspiration he said, after pausing a minute or two: 'But what are we to do? I never met with such a case before, and never heard of such a case; the thing is so preposterous and unnatural, as well as unprecedented, that I am really at a loss. If it was a man I had to do with I should know what to do; but really, independent of the scandal and absurdity of the thing, to engage in a contest with an old woman, and to run the chance of getting the worst of it, places me in a position I never for a moment contemplated. I am fairly perplexed, and truly would rather again face "la Vieille Garde" with Ney at their head than face this dreadful Mrs. G. Great pity women were ever admitted into cantonments; they always give trouble and always cause trouble.'

'They did so in the first cantonment ever marked out, so we are told,' observed Captain W. To this the Colonel made no reply, not relishing even an approach to a joke on so serious and distressing a subject. After a silence of some minutes, during which the Colonel endeavoured to overcome his indignation, though with but partial success, he said: 'Send for the houseman.'

'When shall I tell him to be here?' said Captain W.

'Send an orderly to fetch him here at once,' replied the Colonel.

An orderly was accordingly despatched for Veneaty, who in due season arrived, puffing and panting in consequence of the rapid mode of progression insisted on by his military companion. When brought into the presence of the Colonel his nerves seemed to be greatly discomposed, nor did the Colonel's manner and mode of address tend much to reassure him. The first question put to him was:

'Are you the owner of the house now occupied by Mrs. G.?'

'Yes, I am, General Saib.'

'Does she pay her rent regularly?'

'Yes, General Saib.'

'Does she hold a lease of that house?'

'She has taken Captain Turner's lease, General Saib.'

'When did she obtain that lease?'

'Four months ago, General Saib.'

'Four months? Are you sure?'

'Yes, General Saib.'

'It was not after the new rules were ordered, was it?'

'No, General Saib; it was more than three months before they were ordered.'

'Well, you see, W.,' said the Colonel, 'we shall gain nothing by parchment; we must try something else.'

'Veneaty, when you want a tenant to go out, what do you do?'

'If he no pay his rent, I get order to seize his property, then he pay or he go out.'

'But suppose he does pay his rent, and still you want him to go out, what do you do then?'

'I give written warning to go out.'

'Then can't you do that with Mrs. G.?'

'How can do that, General Saib? Mem Saib got lease.'

'Oh, I forgot that,' said the Colonel. 'What the devil am I to do?'

'General Saib not know, how can I tell?' returned Veneaty.

After a silence of some minutes, Captain W. said: 'In a case of like nature, or something like, that occurred at Bombay, they unroofed the house, and so got the tenant out. Won't you do that?'

'General Saib give order, I do; but Mem Saib, if she make complaint to High Court at Madras, what I do?'

'Well, Veneaty, you may go now; when I want you again I will send for you.' Then, turning to Captain W., he said: 'Before we act I must write to headquarters, and get instructions from Government. I must ask them to take the opinion of the law officers on this case, then perhaps we shall know what we are about.' So Veneaty departed, making profound salaams as he went out, rejoicing that he had not been required to take active measures against his tenant.

Three months elapsed before the Colonel received an answer to his letter of inquiry, and then the answer was not exactly what he wanted; but it gave permission to the local military authorities to direct the unroofing of the house if the occupant continued refractory after another warning, the Government being prepared to meet damages should any be awarded by the Supreme Court.

During the suspension of hostilities, Captain W.'s position was not in all respects a pleasant one; he was exposed to constant inquiries as to when active operations would recommence, how the fortress was to be stormed, and whether he was prepared to lead the forlorn hope. In fact, to the lookers on the whole thing was regarded as great fun. Nothing amused them more than to make inquiries on this subject, and few things annoyed the gallant staff officer more than to be questioned respecting it. His friends, good-naturedly, seldom lost an opportunity of doing so. On these occasions his usual reply was, that references had been made to headquarters, but that the law was uncertain. 'O-ho! is that it?' said one of these good-natured friends; 'then at least for the present you have yielded the field to the enemy? What a jolly old girl, that Mrs. G.! Upon my life she's a Boadicea, a Thalestris, a perfect Queen of the Amazons! To beat a general officer, a brigadier, and a staff-officer single-handed is really an extraordinary feat of arms.'

Captain W., who could not suppress his vexation, observed: 'You are talking a great deal of nonsense, Gunthorpe; the war is not ended yet. You had better wait till it is before you indulge in such idle gibes.'

'I fear,' returned Gunthorpe, 'if the war goes on as it has begun I shall have to wait a long time. But don't be crusty; I must have my laugh, and can't afford to put it off for the indefinite time you point to.' W. was vexed and sulky, but Gunthorpe would have his laugh, so the 'immortal' Don Pomposa rode off without making any reply.

At another chance meeting on the parade ground, the conversation again turned on the slow progress the besiegers were making, and the resolution displayed by the garrison.

'How long is it since the siege commenced?' said one. 'It can't be much less than six months,' said another. 'But it isn't a siege now, is it, W.?' said his quondam friend Gunthorpe. 'I should rather term it a blockade.' 'Oh, call it what you like,' returned W., 'that will make very little difference.' 'Certainly not, certainly not,' said G.; 'a rose will smell as sweet by any other name, you know. At all events, whenever you do obtain possession of the place so gallantly defended, you'll have to allow the garrison all the honours of war, that's certain. But do you know what I heard this morning?' 'How should I know?' returned W. 'Well, I suspect it will astonish you not a little. Mrs. G., it is credibly reported, to show her total indifference to all your proceedings, has determined to open a shop, and has already made arrangements for fitting it up.' 'Open a shop! Nonsense!' said W. 'True, I assure you,' returned his friend. 'But what kind of goods is she going to deal in?' 'Oh, everything included under the head of _stationery_.' 'Confound you, G.! I thought some rubbish of that sort was coming.' The laughter of others showed that they relished G.'s small attempt. Then the party separated, all in high spirits and good-humour, except the 'immortal' Pomposa, who rode away swelling and ruffling his plumes, and vowing this, that, and the other. He thought of making an application for two months' leave of absence, but he remembered that if he got it he would have to forfeit half his allowances, therefore he agreed with himself that discretion would be the better part of valour. Nevertheless, he could not suppress a few kind wishes in favour of his friends, which, as they did not hear them, did them no serious harm.

Things went on much in the old way, until the arrival of the instructions from headquarters. Then active operations recommenced. Official notice was again sent to Mrs. G. that if she did not vacate her bungalow by a certain date, which was duly specified, orders would be issued to unroof it. Still the indomitable heroine took no steps to find another house, nor did she take any notice of the official warning.

When the period of grace was about to expire, Captain W., by the desire of the Colonel, wrote Mrs. G. a polite note, telling her that the workmen and coolies would be at her house on such a day unless she removed in time, but that both he and the Colonel hoped that Mrs. G.'s sense of propriety would save them the pain of enforcing a measure so repugnant to their feelings.

Mrs. G. replied to Captain W.'s note, with thanks for the intimation it conveyed, adding that as the roof was in want of some slight repairs, and that as she knew, when it was repaired, all the broken or injured tiles must be replaced by new and sound ones, the order was tantamount to one for repairing her roof, which she begged to acknowledge as it deserved. As a lady, she could not raise her cap to the Colonel. It was, however, scarcely necessary, as he had raised her tile for her. This ran round the cantonment, while the laugh was all on the lady's side, and her pluck was universally admired.

By and by the day of fate arrived, so did the workmen and the coolies, with ladders and all other needful means and appliances. Mrs. G., wearing a large pith hat, and farther defended by a large silk umbrella, having a long support that rested on the ground, came out, and pointed out to the men where they should commence their work. Veneaty was there, making pathetic appeals to everyone, as well as to his own throat, and uttering unceasing apologies. 'He too sorry. He not do. But too much fraiding,' etc., etc. Numerous officers, some friends of Mrs. G., some strangers, but all more or less sympathetic and complimentary as to her courage and resolution, were assembled in and around her compound. There was much talking and shaking of hands. By and by jocose remarks and peals of laughter were mingled with the babel of various tongues and voices, and the whole thing seemed to be regarded by the majority as an excellent joke, Mrs. G. appearing to be in high spirits, as she talked to everyone, giving all to understand that her lawyer had positively stated that she was bound to make money by the proceeding, which she expressed her fixed intention to do, if only to read her special friends a lesson.

All this time, Captain W. did not appear. Whether his conscience twitted him, or whether he feared the wit of his friends, is best known to himself. Some assigned the one, some the other, reason for his non-appearance, and some said that both combined to keep him away.

The next morning, soon after gun-fire, Captain W. rode past Mrs. G.'s compound to ascertain if the orders had been duly executed. The lady was up and out, attending to her garden. As soon as she saw the gallant Captain she said: 'Good-morning, Captain W., won't you come in and have a cup of coffee?'

'No, I thank you,' replied the Captain, 'I'm on duty. I have to go to the artillery lines.'

'Oh, do come in,' replied the lady. 'I want to ask you why you were not on duty yesterday.' Captain W. coloured up, mumbled something, and was about to ride on his way, when his old tormentor, Gunthorpe, came up. After saluting the lady, he said to W.: 'Going to the artillery lines, are you? So am I. We'll ride there together.' So, raising their caps to the lady, they were about to start, when G. said: 'But isn't this a _moving spectacle_?' pointing to the tiles piled up on the ground. 'Whatever it is,' said W., again getting red in the face, 'it's no fault of mine.'

'I say,' said Mrs. G., 'it's nothing of the kind. I'm not thinking of moving--don't imagine any such thing--yet, after all, in another sense, it may be termed "a moving spectacle," inasmuch as it is most likely to move a good many rupees into my pocket. So you see, Captain Gunthorpe, that I have very good reason to be obliged to the Colonel and your friend Captain W.'

The lady and Captain G. were both convulsed with laughter; the latter, after a second bow, rode off with the Staff-Captain, who observed to G., 'You and the lady seem to understand the joke; I confess I can't see it.'

'Can't you? how odd!' said G., again bursting into a fit of laughter. Captain W. was sulky and silent, and little was said during their ride. When they reached the artillery lines, G. asked his silent friend to breakfast with him at the mess; but W. declined, stating he had yet to visit the canteen. So the gentlemen parted, and G. regaled his friends at mess with what he had seen and heard that morning.

Not to protract the story longer than needful, it is enough to say that the lady held out three months longer, during two changes in the state of her roof, which was first open on the north side and then on the south. She raised internal entrenchments of bamboo mats and cajans, which last she had to send some distance for. By these means, and the moving of her bed from this to that side as she found convenient, she defended herself against wind and rain and cold and sun most effectually; and though, as she observed, the polite attentions of her friends enabled her to converse with the stars more freely than she had been accustomed to do, she made no sign of capitulating; no white flag was seen on her battlements. She seemed, indeed, more active than ever. She drove out morning and evening, and whenever she met the Colonel or the Staff-Officer she saluted in the most obliging manner.

How long the siege might have endured it is impossible to say, had not the Koorg War unexpectedly put an end to it. Colonel L. was placed in command of the column that was to penetrate the Koorg country by Stony River, and therefore was shortly obliged to surrender to Colonel Burton his staff appointment as the commandant of the cantonment. Before he did so, however, Mrs. G. was seen at the band-stand, her coachman, her ghari-wallahs or grooms, and her horses, all decked out with large blue rosettes on their heads and turbans.

'Dear me, what is all this finery for?' said Miss Brown. 'Oh, I know. Mrs. G. is rejoicing that Colonel L. is going to Koorg.'

'Quite wrong,' said Mrs. G., who overheard her. 'It is on account of a matter of infinitely more importance to me. I have been awarded, independent of costs which will have to be paid as well, 5,000 Rs., as a compensation for the injuries I have sustained (so they put it). Now, isn't it good to get one's roof repaired for nothing, and then to get 5,000 Rs as a present into the bargain--isn't it good? So good that I could not help celebrating my victory and good fortune by a little outward display, as you see.'

By this time there was quite a crowd round Mrs. G.'s carriage, laughing, rejoicing, and complimenting her upon her success. 'But what will you do, Mrs. G.,' said Gunthorpe, 'if the new commandant takes up the cudgels, and continues the unroofing business?'

'Oh,' returned Mrs. G., 'if he should be so very kind as to give me another opportunity of making another 5,000 Rs. I shall not object, I shall renew my conversation with the stars with unfeigned pleasure.' After this flourish of trumpets, and cheers from the ladies and uproarious laughter from the gentlemen, the old lady departed to take her accustomed drive round the racecourse.

It is almost needless to say that Colonel Burton declined to continue the war; and thus terminated this famous 'passage of arms,' second only in interest to that of Ashby de la Zouch, recorded in 'Ivanhoe,' Mrs. G. having literally had her roof repaired for her for nothing, and having had a present of 5,000 Rs. on account of the proceeding.

It is said that the heroine, after her signal success, dropped her old coat-of-arms, substituting for her former crest a hen standing over two prostrate dunghill cocks, and for the three mullets on the face of the shield, several men thatching the roof of a house; finally, for supporters, she had a brigadier and a staff-officer. In place of her old motto, she had, 'I strive and thrive.'

On being asked why, being only Mrs. General G., she assumed supporters, she replied, 'My husband's family are lineally descended from the King of Munster, so you perceive I am entitled to have supporters.' 'Well,' replied the inquirer, 'you certainly found numerous and able supporters, whether descended from the King of Munster or not.' 'Oh, fie!' said Mrs. G., 'to try and throw a doubt on the validity of my supporters. Fie! fie!'

No. VI.

MAJOR B.'S WELL-DESERVED DISCOMFITURE.

The incidents about to be narrated happened during the campaign of 1834, undertaken against the Rajah of Koorg, whose atrocities could no longer be tolerated. The force ordered out for this purpose was divided into three columns: one under the command of General Waugh, a second under someone whose name we cannot call to mind, the third under that of Sir Patrick L., a thorough soldier, known afterwards as the hero of Koorg. The wives and other feminine belongings of the officers on duty with these three columns were left at Bangalore, from which station the several divisions started for the seat of war.

The desolate and distressed condition of these poor ladies, during the absence of their husbands, gave rise to those occurrences which the author has here endeavoured to describe, and from which the reader, it is hoped, will derive some amusement.

The solitary state of these fair sufferers naturally attracted the attention and commiseration of many of those gentlemen who were not employed on active service, and it was no less remarkable than beautiful to mark the constant devotion of some of them. It was indeed so remarkable that one of the ladies whose husband had not been ordered away, and who was at the time sitting by her side at the band-stand, observed, 'Who would not be a grass widow to get flowers and fruits from the Laul Baugh every morning, and such unfailing attention at all times? Surely the age of chivalry has returned.'

'I think,' Captain D. said, 'it is a pity that, with the age of chivalry, the husbands of the grass widows have not returned also.'

'That is a pity too, no doubt,' said the lively dame; 'but in the absence of the legitimate comforters and protectors, isn't it charming to see how anxious most of the gentlemen present seem to be to make the ladies feel this absence as little as possible?'

'Christian charity, Charlotte; Christian charity,' said the gentleman.

'Well,' replied the lady, 'I hope it is; but----'

'But what?' said her husband, laughing.

'Oh, nothing; only I hope they won't carry it too far. Some of them at least seem disposed to carry their charity (if that's the word, which I am by no means sure of) a long way.'

'If they carry it farther than they ought to do, isn't that the fault of the ladies?' replied the marital speaker.

'William, you always take the part of the men, and it is not fair,' returned the lady. 'Look how Major B. besieges Mrs. W.'

'Well,' returned her husband, 'if he does she can force him to raise the siege whenever she pleases, can't she?'

'I don't see it exactly in that light,' returned the lady; 'I think gentlemen should not endeavour to do all the mischief they can, and then shelter themselves under the plea that ladies can, and ought, always to take care of themselves.'