Chapter VIII: Part 8

This little display arose thus: The General asked how many sick he had (the report had been placed in his hands almost immediately after he reached the hospital; this he did not look at, but after folding it up placed it in a letter-case carried by an orderly). The Doctor answered: 'Nearly 700, General.' 'What do you mean by nearly, sir?' said the questioner. 'Answer my question, and state the precise number.' 'Six hundred and seventy-nine, sir,' replied the surgeon. 'How can that be, sir? You have nothing like that number in hospital.' 'No, General, only 130, which is all the hospital will hold without injurious crowding.' 'Oh, that's all it will hold, is it? But I see some empty beds; how do you account for that?' 'Patients dismissed this morning, General.' 'But you say you have near 700 sick, and only 130 in hospital; what do you do with the 500 and odd remaining?' 'They are on the convalescent list, General.' 'On the convalescent list! I ask you what you do with them.' 'They live in the Lines, General.' 'And do you visit them in the Lines?' 'When any of them are ill enough to require visiting in the Lines I do visit them, and then send them into hospital. Those who suffer from chronic ailments, or from debility, attend at the hospital as desired.' 'As desired!' repeated the General. 'Pray, sir, what kind of phrase is that? What am I to understand by it?' 'As often as is considered desirable, General.' 'D----n it, sir, what _do_ you mean? Do you mean once a day, or every other day, or twice a week? What do you mean? Why don't you try and speak plain English?' 'Some of them do come every morning, some every other morning, some twice a week, and some once a week,' replied the Doctor. 'Upon my word, sir, you have a nice way of doing your duty, seeing your patients once a week, and the others as you please, in order to shuffle through your work with the least trouble to yourself.' 'Pardon me, General. I try to do my work conscientiously, without any reference to personal trouble.' 'No, sir, I won't pardon you; but I'll make you do your duty as it ought to be done. Now mind, sir, I will not allow any convalescent list, and you see every one of your patients every day. Mind that, sir.' 'Very good, General, but where am I to see them? The hospital will not hold more than 130.' 'Don't attempt to make idle objections, sir; it's your business to find a place to put your patients in. Indent on the commissariat for hospital tents. Ask the cantonment Adjutant for help; he can, I dare say, find some unoccupied building, or can obtain the use of tents. What do you say, Adjutant?' 'It was formerly, General, the practice to use tents for this sick-depôt, but when the hospital was built this practice was ordered to be discontinued, as the outlay for the purchase and wear and tear of tents was very considerable.' 'And pray, Adjutant,' said the General, looking disgusted, 'why did you not tell me that before?' 'This is the first opportunity I've had to tell it, General.' 'Well, however it is managed I will allow no convalescent list. You, sir,' turning to the Doctor, 'do you hear that?' 'I hear, General.' 'And mind you obey it, or it will be worse for you.' The Doctor bowed, but made no reply.

The General then departed with Colonel H. The cantonment Adjutant lingered behind to whisper to the Doctor: 'Don't be uneasy; you'll see this will be only a flash in the pan. The good folks at headquarters won't sanction the extra expenditure that this impracticable old gentleman wishes to lead them into. He wants to make the regulations for effective men applicable to a sick-depôt, and you'll see he'll be overruled. Good-bye.'

With the remembrance of the General's pleasant manner in the morning fresh in his mind, it is not to be wondered at that the Doctor was taciturn during the dinner; but being an easy, good-tempered little fellow, he accepted the General's challenge to a glass of wine as a sort of apology for his rudeness at hospital, and began to keep his thoughts under less restraint; and as the wine circulated after the departure of the ladies, the conversation turned on the behaviour of a certain General Lloyd. This, not supposing he should give offence, the Doctor condemned from beginning to end somewhat freely. Whether it was that General Lloyd was a countryman, or whether the wine began to tell, or whether it was merely the inherent temper of the man which excited his determination to lay down the law on all subjects, or, as his victim, poor Banter, said of him, that 'he would not allow anyone to call his soul his own,' I am not able to explain; but certain it is that the Doctor's expression of opinion excited his anger and indignation in a high degree, which he gave vent to in the following manner:

'On my life, sir, you are a modest young man,' was his opening speech, which he continued thus: 'Your own profession and your own duties are not enough for you to attend to, but you must entertain your seniors and superior military men, whose experience and rank and knowledge of military matters should give some assurance of their competence to understand and judge in such a case, with your sapient notions; you must give them your views and opinions, and on matters which neither your education nor training can possibly give you the means of judging or criticising justly. In taking upon you to pronounce on the conduct of a General of Division, in the presence of an officer of equal rank, you assume a position that is highly disrespectful and offensive, and in doing so you have exhibited your ignorance no less than your conceit and presumption. You, a subaltern, not a military man even of the lowest grade; you, who are merely a carver of human flesh, your assurance is astounding!'

The Doctor, who had until now exhibited remarkable command of temper, could bear no more. He said: 'General, I thought I was at a private party, where freedom of opinion was allowed, and not in the orderly-room, in speaking of General Lloyd. I meant no offence to anyone; certainly not to you. If I have given you offence, I regret it; it was wholly unintentional. With reference to being a carver of human flesh, I do dissect or carve, as you please to term it, dead human flesh to learn to heal and cure live human flesh. But are not those who wield the sabre only to maim and kill live human beings more truly carvers of human flesh than medical men are?'

The General absolutely foamed at the mouth with rage and fury. He had been a dragoon, and had on several occasions wielded his sabre with most unsparing vigour; he therefore felt the retort keenly. His eyes glared, and he looked like a tiger going to spring. Whether he would have proceeded to assault and battery is uncertain; but Colonel H., going at this moment round to the Doctor, said: 'I have forgotten Mrs. H.'s request--I ought to have told you before--that she is by no means well, and wishes to see you as soon as you can leave the table. She was ill before she rose from her place; pray go at once.' Accordingly the Doctor left the table at once.

Having seen General B. in the mess-room, at the hospital, and in private society, we trace him again to Trichinopoly, and again in the mess-room of H.M.'s ---- Regiment. He had returned to his old division when relieved from acting in the Presidency Division by the return of General Somers, and we find him again in the mess-room, where all his old acquaintances and Colonel P. were assembled, in order to hear the decision of H.R.H. the Commander-in-Chief of H.M.'s Forces. It was to be read out in the presence of all officers bearing H.M.'s commission who might at the time be in Trichinopoly.

This decision of H.R.H. was just what might have been expected--calm, wise, authoritative, and, though severely minatory, in the end generously lenient. It was too long to be given verbatim, or even in detail; a brief abstract is all that can be attempted. It expressed the extreme displeasure of the Chief towards both the General and Colonel P., and his surprise that senior officers should not know how to restrain their irascible feelings towards one another when they must be aware that concord and harmony were essential to the preservation of discipline and the welfare of the service at large. So strongly did H.R.H. condemn such evil example that he had determined to remove both offenders from the army, and nothing but the fact that they had both fought and bled for their sovereign and their country induced him to forego the infliction of a punishment which was fully deserved. H.R.H. added that he felt offended and indignant that his time should have been taken up in reading long statements relating to such trivial matters as personal disputes. He was resolved that nothing of the kind should occur again without bringing down immediate removal from the service. He had been asked for a decision on the merits of the case. He would give no such decision. He found so much to blame in the conduct of both officers that he would not waste his time in sifting and weighing their conduct so as to determine which of them had behaved the worse. He enjoined strict attention to the advice offered some time previously by the Commander-in-Chief of the Madras Army, and especially to that contained in a letter from that officer under date so-and-so. Finally, that he should regard a strict adherence to those recommendations as indicative of a desire to carry out his injunction to preserve discipline and concord, and vice-versâ in the case of any departure from, or any non-adherence to, them. He concluded by informing them that their conduct would be under strict supervision for some time to come.

When the General ceased there was a stir, and evident rejoicing amongst all present. The admirable sense and sound logic of the despatch, with the extreme kindness and leniency of the decision, was the theme of eulogy with all, and warm congratulations, both to the General and Colonel P., were offered by all who were on terms to do so.

After the excitement had a little subsided, the scene occurred which led the writer (who was _en route_ to Madras, halting three days at Trichinopoly) to investigate and make inquiries. Thus he became acquainted with the antecedents of the officers who figured in it.

It commenced in this way: The General, after having read out the C.C.'s communication, continued for some minutes silent, walking up and down with the despatch in his hand. At length he stopped, and spoke to the following effect:

'Gentlemen, I can fully understand the generosity of H.R.H. as shown in this despatch. I admire and appreciate his delicacy and his kindness. He would give no decision on the merits of the case. No, no; how could he, having in his magnanimous clemency decided not to inflict the punishment due to ill-regulated and ill-considered behaviour?' (Sensation amongst the officers present). 'For myself, gentlemen, I am quite willing and content to bear the share of blame that has been awarded to me, in the thought that, by doing so, I have helped a brother officer out of a very dangerous position.' Signs of impatience on the part of Colonel Pertinacity, of which the General took no notice, but continued thus: 'Yes, gentlemen, I say, under the circumstances adverted to, I willingly--nay, cheerfully--accept the share of blame attributed to me, and am resolved to set the example in obeying and following out the advice tendered by his Excellency the C.C. of this army, especially since my attention has been so pointedly directed to it by the recommendation of H.R.H.

'Colonel Pertinacity, you have heard what H.E. the C.C. of Madras says, and also what H.R.H. says respecting it? I trust you will meet me half way in showing obedience to it.'

'Most certainly, General B. I shall pay the strictest obedience to it, in spite of the one-sided remarks you have thought proper to make in your present address, in which, I must in my own defence say, you were not borne out by the despatch you hold in your hand.'

'Oh, Colonel P!--Colonel P.! is this the way you carry out H.R.H.'s instructions? You provoke me beyond endurance; but I will not say another word that is calculated to bring on a rejoinder. In spite of what has been said, I believe you do mean to obey H.R.H., therefore I offer you my hand.'

Now, to the understanding of the pantomime that followed it is needful to state that the General stood at the top of the room, and on either side stood seven or eight officers disposed according to their rank. On the right hand, at the head of those on that side, stood Colonel P., distant from the General about three paces. The General, holding out his hand, made a step towards the Colonel, repeating: 'Colonel P., here is my hand.' But the Colonel made no sign of acceptance, and when the General approached nearer to him, he put his hands behind him, and, as the General followed him, backed down the room in that position, bowing to the General, and saying as he did so: 'You must excuse me, General B.; I cannot take your hand.'

'Come, Colonel. What, will you not obey the orders of H.R.H.? Come.'

'No, General B.; I cannot take your hand. I am nowhere called upon to do that by H.R.H., but I will obey to the last point all I am called upon to do.'

The moving scene continued, both the retreat and advance, and appeared to the lookers on so intensely comical that they scarcely dared to look at one another.

While the retreating Colonel was reiterating his determination to obey the orders of H.R.H., and exclaiming: 'I will obey--indeed I will. On my honour, General, I will obey!' Wagner whispered to the officer standing nearest to him: 'Private theatricals--kiss and be friends. Acted for the first time by field officers for the amusement of a select audience.'

'Hush! Hush!' said Archer.

By this time the two performers had approached the lower end of the room, where Wagner was standing; the short, fat Colonel, with his hands behind him, his dress coat-tails spread, one on either side of that portion of his person rendered prominent by his bowing posture, and not posterior but anterior by the back step mode of progression. The sight presented was altogether too much for Wagner's equanimity. He again whispered to Archer: 'Heaven preserve us! I have served in the trenches at Sebastopol, and thought I was acquainted with every kind of explosive missile, bomb, and shell in use; but anything so large and formidable as that now slowly ricochetting this way I never beheld. Pray God its force is spent. If an accident should occur, only think what would be our fate!'

'Hold still, Wagner! Will you never get sense?' retorted his friend.

At this point the General, beginning to perceive the absurdity of the situation, ceased to advance, and, drawing himself up stiffly, said: 'You refuse my hand, Colonel Pertinacity? So be it, then; you ought to know the responsibility you incur by this line of conduct, and I shall press you no further. I waived my rank for the sake of peace, and to set you an example which, I am sorry to see, you are unable to appreciate.' So saying, and with a salute to all present, he marched off, as Archer said, 'with the honours of war.'

'No, no,' said Wagner. 'With the honours of peace. And a more entertaining _piece_ I must confess I never witnessed. What I endured in conquering my desire to laugh no one can imagine; but, say as you will, I don't believe all the sufferings of all the martyrs were anything to be compared to it.'

These private theatricals were, so far as ever I could learn, never made known officially to headquarters; but it was strongly suspected that the details of the performance somehow or other oozed out, and found their way to the ears of authority, for within a week after the date on which this remarkable _pas de deux_ had been exhibited in the mess-house at Trichinopoly, General Somers was posted to the Mysore Division, and General B. was appointed to the Presidency Division, as it was said, that he might be under the eye of the C.C., on the principle that induces men to put a severe muzzle on a savage and intractable dog. Colonel Pertinacity was, not many months afterwards, placed in command of a regiment ordered to the West Indies.

No. X.

CURIOUS MOPLAH CUSTOMS.

The deed of violence which forms the basis of this narrative took place at Tollicherry, or rather in that district. How it was that my brother came to be stationed there will appear in due course. We left him at Bangalore, from whence he marched with his regiment to Secunderabad. He had not been there many months when an order was received directing the regiment to proceed with all possible speed to Scinde, where troops were urgently required. Some weeks before the order in question reached Secunderabad, my brother, finding that the climate of the Deccan did not agree with him, had applied for and obtained medical charge of the Zillah of Tollicherry; but as soon as he heard there was a chance of being engaged in active service, he had applied for permission to throw up the Zillah and to proceed with his regiment, and this was granted. He had, consequently, marched with the regiment from Secunderabad to Doolia, a distance of 600 miles, on the road for Scinde. The men had shown the best spirit, urged by their officers to do their utmost, and knowing that they were going to serve under Sir Charles Napier. They had accomplished the distance in an incredibly short period, but all their exertions, as it turned out, were of no avail. Sir Charles had fought his grand battle of Miani, and the regiment was no longer wanted.

With this chilling news came the order to halt and to divide. One wing was to remain at Doolia, the other to proceed to Assurghur. There never was such a melancholy change among officers and men as that produced by this order. Previous to its receipt there was not an officer or man on sick report; all were in the highest spirits, and, in spite of fatigue, earnest to get on, lively, cheerful, and happy. In a few hours there was neither a happy face nor a cheerful voice to be seen or heard. Disappointment, vexation, and dejection were on every countenance. In a few days half the regiment was in hospital, and nearly half the officers on sick report. My poor brother had a sad time of it; besides his own share of vexation and disappointment, he was worked off his legs.

Now he renewed his application for the Zillah of Tollicherry, which, in consideration of the proper feeling he had displayed, was again bestowed on him. To reach this station, from the place where he then was (Doolia), he had to travel 200 miles to Bombay, and from thence to proceed by sea to Tollicherry, a distance of about 800 miles. At that time the south-west monsoon was close at hand, and my brother, consequently, found it very difficult to procure a vessel that would undertake the voyage. At last, by paying double hire, he chartered a _Satamar_ (called by the natives a Fatty mary), the owners and the serang engaging to take the risk, which in the sequel proved to be so fearful that it seems a miracle how ship or crew ever lived through it.

On the day that my brother set sail from Bombay the sky was, after mid-day, more or less overcast; towards the evening the sun appeared through the dense atmosphere to be almost of a blood-red hue, and the edges of the clouds of a deep copper colour. A little later the sun became to a great extent obscured and hidden by a mass of clouds, so much tinged by dusky red that the dark gray tone was almost extinguished. As the mighty orb sank below the horizon, the red, crimson, and copper tones quickly disappeared, except on the under surfaces of some clouds high above the sea-line, and darkness spread with extreme rapidity over everything, while a low moaning and fitful whistling of the wind seemed to presage a struggle of the powers, which from the beginning of the world has been attended with such fearful results. The aspect of the heavens, the moaning of the wind, and the uneasy motion of the waters, were not lost on the serang and his native sailors. They took in all sail except a small triangular one, a sort of apology for what we call a mainstay sail, to enable them to keep the ship's head to the wind. They then lashed the salankeen to the deck, and awaited with awe the bursting of the storm. It commenced with a perfect deluge of rain, blinding flashes of long-forked lightning, followed almost instantaneously by such rattling sharp crashes of thunder as for a time to take away the sense of hearing.

Sea and sky were wrapped in total darkness, when not illumined by the zigzag lines of lightning. The wind now increased, and the sea became dangerously rough and angry. Had the wind gone on increasing, bark and crew must have perished; but mercifully, it did not, its low muttering, moaning, or occasional whistling note was heard at intervals; still it never blew hard and furious as it threatened to do. The darkness, the downpour of rain, the lightning and the thunder, continued, while now and then a sea, and constantly the spray, swept over the vessel; for though the wind did not increase, the sea had been so raised, and the waves had become so threatening, that during two hours, while the worst of the storm lasted, my brother expected every moment that some overwhelming sea would whirl the unhappy _Satamar_ into the depths below.

The storm had commenced a little after the sun had gone down, and darkness had covered everything; then the furious rain descending in sheets of water, with lightning streams and deafening thunder, had continued at short intervals for three hours, and the sea had got up. Everything depended on the increase of the wind, and for two hours more there was nothing less than the prospect of instant death present to the minds of all on board. Shortly after midnight the violence of the storm began to abate; the wind, instead of increasing gradually, subsided; the rain was less like a deluge; the flashes and streams of lightning were less frequent and less vivid; the crashes of thunder less sharp, and evidently more distant; but the sea did not go down. Nevertheless the magnitude and the violence of the masses of water that rose and fell were less appalling and less frequent.

It was now about half-past two, and there was an interval in the fall of rain (the first that had occurred). The sea no longer came sweeping over the deck, though the spray still kept everything wet, but the worst was over, and my brother had lain down to sleep. He was awakened by the serang with a native compass in his hand, followed by a sailor who was holding up a lantern to enable my brother to see the card. The vessel had been running down the coast, not very far from shore; but now a new peril presented itself.

The darkness was less complete, and was rapidly becoming less and less; this change enabled the natives to perceive something white not far ahead; they knew at once that it was the foam of breakers caused by a reef of rocks, on which if they kept their course they would certainly strike. They could not sail towards the land, as the coast is rock-bound almost everywhere, and they dreaded pointing the head of the ship out to the broad ocean. It is ever the custom with native mariners to hug the land, so in their distress, and seeing the breakers ahead, they had come to ask directions from their passenger, though they knew he was a hakim and not a sailor; but such was their respect for the knowledge of Europeans, that they thought he must know what was best to do. My brother at once directed them, in spite of their fears, to point the head of the brave little craft that had stood the storm so well out to sea, and such was their confidence in his wisdom that they at once did as he desired. Having thus avoided the rocks, and seen the head of the vessel pointed away from land, my brother again lay down to sleep.

Two hours had scarcely elapsed before he was again awakened by the serang with the compass in his hand. It was now light enough to see everything with perfect ease. The sea all round was comparatively calm, but the land was not to be seen. This it was that had again excited the fears of the crew, and had led them to appeal again to the European. On learning the cause of their fear, my brother directed them to put about and steer towards the land; they again obeyed, and again he went to sleep. At about half-past six a.m. he was awakened by sounds of rejoicing and singing, which he soon found arose from their sense of security, thankfulness, and gratification, at having again caught sight of the land. The sun was shining with power renewed, and everything was dazzlingly bright; even the light reflected from the sea was too much for the eye. The serang, however, soon rigged up a double awning which kept a part of the deck in shadow. This permitted my brother to take his breakfast comfortably. About midday they made the port of Goa, where he landed, but stayed there only to dine. In a couple of hours they were again at sea, and in two days more anchored at Tollicherry.

As soon as his trunks were landed, my brother made the serang happy by a present of 5 Rs., and the sailors equally so by another 5 Rs., to be divided amongst them. While waiting at the Bunder-Major's office for bearers to carry himself and the palkee to the doctor's house, a peon, with spotless garments of white save a red shawl twisted round his waist, bearing an ebony sort of curved staff covered almost all over with silver, presented my brother, after many profound salaams, with a note from the First Judge of the Circuit, requesting that my brother and his wife would give him the pleasure of their company till they could find a house to suit them. This princely man added that he had ordered a suite of rooms to be got ready for their reception, as well as rooms for the children and the servants; finally, that he had sent two sets of bearers to bring up the palankeens, and that the peon would procure fresh sets of coolie bearers to bring up the children and the ayahs, as well as means for forwarding the luggage.

On perusing this note, my brother jumped into his palankeen, which the Judge's bearers shouldered at once, and almost ran with it to the Judge's house, anxious to be the first to tell him that they had brought the new 'hakim saib.' On getting out of the palkee, my brother found Mr. V. waiting in the hall to welcome his guests. His first remark was, while extending his hand to my brother: 'But where's Mrs. ----?' The story of the going on active service, as it was supposed, and the impossibility under such circumstances of taking his wife with him, had then to be told. Mr. V. listened to the explanation, and then said: 'But where is she? Have you left her at Secunderabad all this time?' 'No,' replied my brother, 'she and the children have been staying at Anot, where her brother (in medical charge of the 5th Cavalry) is stationed.' 'And when do you expect them here?' continued the Judge. 'Why,' returned my brother, 'that depends, I believe, on the safe accomplishment of a certain trouble that married people are occasionally subject to.' 'Oh!' said Mr. V., 'that's the state of the case, is it? Well, it can't be helped, I suppose; you must make yourself as comfortable as you can here till the lady arrives.'

Mr. V. was not only a thorough gentleman in manner and exterior, but truly so in feeling; no one could be more unmindful of self, or more disposed to make everyone forget that he occupied the first position in the district. Frank, sociable, generous, and hospitable, as well as lively and good-humoured, he was a noble specimen of an Englishman, and a typical example of the best kind of the old Indian burra saib, a class that even in those days was fast disappearing, and cannot, I believe, now be found. My brother stayed with this kind and generous man during more than two months, and then he only succeeded in effecting his departure on the plea that he must prepare his house for the advent of his wife.

While Mr. V.'s guest, my brother made the acquaintance of all the European residents at the station, paying and receiving the customary visits, all which matters of form my brother heartily detested: but the Medes and Persians of old were not more rigid in their laws than Anglo-Indians are in the matter of paying and returning visits. My brother, therefore, obeyed the _lex non scripta_ with as little delay as possible. He first made his bow to Mrs. A., the wife of the second Circuit Judge, a lady of whom it was whispered that she wore certain portions of costume generally considered to be _propria quæ maribus_. However this may have been, her husband, Mr. A., was a most kind and excellent man. Mrs. H., the wife of the third Judge, with her husband, both became valued friends. Both are doubtless gone to the 'better land,' therefore it would not be kind or wise to grieve for them.

Next to the Circuit Judges comes the Zillah Judge, who was also a married man; consequently, to his house the hakim's palkee wended its way in due course. He found this lady so rigid in her religious opinions that she would not allow of any difference. On making this discovery he congratulated himself that she did not possess the power to enforce conformity; visions of solitary cells, bread and water, and other more dreadful pains and penalties, forcing themselves on his mind. Her husband seemed to be so far in leading strings as to have no opinions except those held by his wife; though, independent of this little weakness, he was very probably a good and estimable man. The expression of this gentleman's countenance was, however, usually so lugubrious and unhappy that my brother observed, when speaking of him: 'If his religion has the effect of making him as miserable as the expression of his features indicates, I very much doubt if it be the true religion,' and certainly the Zillah Judge's melancholy face did _countenance_ such an opinion.

It is now time to speak of Mr. G., the sub-collector, who was as unlike Mr. H., the Zillah Judge, as it is possible for one man to be unlike another. Mr. G., to begin with, had no wife to save him the trouble of thinking on important matters, and was as good-humoured, jolly, and generous, as the other was melancholy and penurious. He was, moreover, as fond of fun as the other was fearful of it. H., in short, was a killjoy, and G. was a lovejoy. The consequence of these differences was that H. was not, generally speaking, a particular favourite, and G. was.

The list of officials closes, I think, with the Master-Attendant, or Bunder-Major, as he was popularly termed. This old gentleman had been captain of a merchant vessel, and was therefore, by courtesy, always called Captain B. He was a red-faced, jolly-looking old tar, really good-natured and kind-hearted, but one who murdered his mother tongue at times in rather a determined manner. The letter V seemed to be particularly obnoxious to him. When speaking of a gentleman named Vaughan, he called him 'Waughan.' Or when speaking of several articles of different qualities, he expressed himself thus: 'Oh, there was a many on 'em of wery warious qualities!' The poor man had evidently come from before the mast, but he had the manliness not to deny it, or be ashamed of it; and he was, despite the murders he perpetrated daily, a sort of privileged character, and to a certain extent a favourite.

Those not belonging to the list of officials may very soon be disposed of. Old Mr. B., a retired civilian, and his son, Henry, occupy the first place. The father was a jolly old _bon-vivant_, and had in his younger days, so it was said, been somewhat gay, if the word be accepted not in its literal sense, but in that in which it is usually employed in polite society. His son was a chip of the old block, and a bit of a scamp into the bargain. Mr. G., the German missionary, concludes the catalogue. This individual was in high favour with Mrs. A. and her husband, and with Mrs. H. and her husband.

The catalogue of European residents being concluded, it remains to notice the Eurasians, the greater number of whom were descendants of Portuguese and natives. Most of these were mean, degraded, lazy individuals forming a section of the population not very much respected. Some, no doubt, were respectable persons, acting either as writers (clerks), or tradesmen, tailors, carpenters, etc. There were some few of the Eurasian class descended from Englishmen and native women, who were also employed as writers in the Circuit Court.

One of these, a Mr. James, occasioned considerable amusement, both to the First Judge and to my brother, by presenting to the former a petition for a fortnight's leave of absence. Mr. James had found out that Mr. V. and his guest made it a regular practice to take an hour's constitutional walk every morning between 4.30 and 5.30, _i.e._, before the sun became unpleasant. The petitioner had made use of the opportunity afforded by this practice to prefer his request, which, as he removed his hat and made his best bow, he presented in the form of a petition, his face all the while radiant with smiles. Mr. V., without opening the paper, said: 'Well, Mr. James, what is the purport of the petition?' 'A supplication for leave, sir,' replied Mr. J., 'for a fortnight's leave.' 'This is a very unusual application, Mr. J., at this period of the session.' 'Yes, sir, I know it is somewhat unusual,' replied the petitioner; 'but still, sir, for the reasons assigned, I hope you'll be kind enough to grant it.' 'Well, what are the reasons?--state them.' Mr. J. had all this time been smiling blandly, and looking persuasively suppliant. Now he looked, in addition, not a little sheepish and ill at ease, shifting the weight of his person from one foot to the other. At last, he said: 'Would your honour cast your eyes on the paper?' 'What is it?' said Mr. V., 'are you ashamed to tell me?' 'No, sir, I'm not.' 'Then, why don't you tell me? The sun will be getting hot, and I can't delay my walk homeward any longer. Either tell me at once, or present your petition in Court before the business begins.'

Mr. James, thus urged, smiling more than ever and looking more sheepish than ever, confessed that he wanted leave to get married. 'To get married!' repeated Mr. V., with almost a scream of laughter; 'surely, Mr. James, you don't mean that?' 'I beg you'll pardon me, sir, my proposals have been accepted, and the day for the ceremony has been fixed.' 'The day has been fixed, has it?' said Mr. V., greatly amused; 'why, I should have thought, Mr. James, at your time of life you'd have given over all thought of such matters.' 'No, I haven't, sir,' replied the victim of the tender passion. 'No, you haven't,' said Mr. V., with renewed laughter. 'Why, what may be your age? It's in the register, you know, so you may as well tell it.' 'Why, sir,' said this ardent sample of humanity, 'I think I shall be seventy, or near it, next birthday.' Here my brother could contain himself no longer, and joined Mr. V. in a most uproarious fit of laughter. When the cachinnation was over, Mr. V. said: 'On my word, Mr. J., you are a most inflammable individual. Pray, how long has your first wife been dead?' 'Nearly eight years, sir, and I've been alone all that time.' 'Oh, you've been alone all that time, have you?' gasped out Mr. V. as soon as he could speak. 'It strikes me that, at your time of life, if you kept alone a little longer it would be no great punishment; but you ought to know best about that. Pray, who is the lady who is anxious to have such a blooming bridegroom as yourself?' 'Miss Lucretia Pereira, sir; her father is a very respectable man, sir.' 'No doubt of it.' returned Mr. V.; 'but who is he? you don't mean the head writer in the Zillah Court?' 'Yes, I do, sir,' simpered Mr. James. 'Mr. Pereira! why, his daughter can't be sixteen.' 'No, sir, I don't think she is more than sixteen.' 'And you are seventy,' said Mr. V. 'Well, all I can say is that you are a bold man, a very bold man, and I fear you will repent your boldness; but I will not stand in the way of such a courageous young hero. I will grant you the leave you desire; but tell the registrar to enter it, as well as the name of your substitute, which, by the way, you have not mentioned.' 'Oh, thank you, sir, thank you, it's young Mr. Pereira!' 'Well, well,' replied the Judge, 'now you have got your leave, let me get home.'

As Mr. V. and my brother walked homewards they indulged themselves with various jocose remarks at the expense of the amoroso. 'The old idiot,' said my brother, 'he deserves all that's in store for him.' 'The whole thing is comical enough, truly,' said Mr. V.; 'but, notwithstanding, I am, in spite of my laughter, sorry to see an old man, hitherto accounted respectable and well-conducted, laying up misery for himself at the close of his career.'

For the sake of getting rid of Mr. James and his bride, though it anticipates the dénouement considerably, I will state now what happened five months after the date of the said Lucretia's marriage. At that time she presented a little Miss James to her husband, who blandly remarked, in reference to the occurrence: 'That it was an extraordinary instance of what does sometimes happen, and of the wonderful powers of nature.' Mr. G., who happened to be present when the news was reported, made a somewhat cynical remark, which my brother declares he could never quite understand, though, in illustration of his meaning, Mr. G. indulged in making sundry grotesque contortions of his features, and in applying the index finger of the right hand to the side of his nose; which departure from strict decorum must, my brother presumed, be set down to his love of fun, and keen appreciation of the ridiculous.

This young person's career was what might have been imagined from its commencement, and more than fulfilled my brother's anticipations. The wretched old man died within a year from the date of the event I have recorded.

Let us now pass from the consideration of the Eurasians to that of the native races to be found at Tollicherry. The Hindoos there located are called Nairs and Teers. They possess good features, and are well formed and proportioned. They seem to have the same usages as other Hindoos, the same kind of temples, the same division into castes, and the same reverence for Brahmins, snakes, and monkeys.

The costume of these people, as far as relates to the men kind, does not differ much from that of the male Hindoos of other parts of India; that of the women is a little peculiar, as they wear nothing over their shoulders or busts. Their dress consists chiefly of a cloth, which they wrap round their waists so as to form a becoming sort of petticoat, or what serves the purpose of one. In the absence of any upper garment, they set a grand example to the great majority of the ladies of this and other civilized countries, where these feminine divinities use every conceivable art and contrivance to help to display the last hair's breadth that custom will allow.

The dwellings of the Nair and Teer people are pretty to look at, as they all have a small piece of ground that is well cultivated. They grow cocoa-nut trees, and other palms, pepper, vines, and plantains; and those who possess a larger portion of land raise rice and other grains.

The Mussulman population are not very numerous, and the greater number of these are shipowners and traders to the Persian Gulf, Arabia, and the Red Sea. They possess, many of them, considerable property, and inhabit large upstair houses which, according to native ideas, are very convenient and highly respectable, but unfortunately are not clean. The Bazaar men mostly inhabit huts like those to be found all over India. The dwellings of the Moplahs, a sort of cross breed sprung from Arabs and the natives of this coast, are like those of the Mussulmans, but inferior.

For the due understanding of the tale I have to tell, it is necessary that I should describe the manners and customs of the Moplahs in detail. I shall, therefore, return to them by-and-by. At present it will be convenient to finish the enumeration of the native inhabitants. It would indeed be a poor sketch of the place that did not bestow some notice on the numerous pariah dogs that roam about during the day, or the jackals that do the same by night, making it hideous by their howling, and dangerous too, as they generally go about in packs, tearing over the place, flying over the roads, which are narrow and mostly sunk between opposite banks which are about 6 feet high. In their spring over these roads, should a man be riding along (unless he is very quick), his head being slightly above the height of the banks, he is sure to be bitten; and if it was only ear, or nose, or cheek that suffered, though an unpleasant infliction, it would not be of any serious consequence. But this is not the case; these howling devils, in their snap, generally convey the poison of hydrophobia. Those who get this dreadful disease in this direct way are, however, few; it comes to man through the pariah dogs, who are frequently bitten by these mad jackals, and who, having themselves become infected, convey the poison by their bites to men.

During the first year of his residence at Tollicherry, my brother reports that seven Sepoys died of this incurable malady. The number of villagers and country people who died of it in this time was unknown. The authorities did all they could to keep down the number--I might say the swarms--of pariah dogs. The sub-collector, in this respect a man of dogged determination, was very diligent in collecting tongues and tails: for every pair of which he paid an anah. This practice was resorted to every hot season, and continued for more than three months; so that the dog-days, in this part of the world, last longer it would seem than they do elsewhere. But jackals and dogs form only a small part of the native inhabitants of Tollicherry. My brother says, 'I do not include in my list domestic animals such as horses, oxen, buffaloes, goats, sheep, or even donkeys, which we all know are common enough everywhere; but those ugly and deadly things not met with everywhere. In all the backwaters, rivers, and marshes, there are numerous muggers, or alligators; and some of these monsters are so large and so powerful that they have been known to drag down into the water, in spite of the poor animal's utmost efforts, a full-grown buffalo.' My brother witnessed an occurrence of this kind, as he was driving in a buggy within sight of a backwater. He was too far off to render the poor creature any aid; he was besides without weapon of any kind, though nothing but a good rifle would have been of any use.

In the sea all along this coast sharks of all kinds abound; and on and in the land there are snakes, scorpions, and centipedes innumerable. Of the birds, my brother says little or nothing, as they did not to his eye differ much from those met with in other parts of the country. There were kites and crows, those invaluable scavengers, and many smaller birds which he did not notice. He concludes his list of native inhabitants with the monkeys, which were very numerous; differing much in size, shape, and colour. He describes a monkey standing about 3 feet high, and black all over, except the white ruff under his chin, as a very fine and handsome specimen of the race, and of a species differing from the rest of the quadrumana.

By using this word species, I fear my brother has exposed himself to the wrath of the infallible Dr. Darwin, who, in his wonderful scheme of development by evolution, has stated that the quadrumana are our immediate progenitors. He has not, it is true, explained from which kind of monkey man is developed; nor how it happens that there are not as many kinds of men as there are of monkeys; or whether his friend 'Development' doubles up all the monkeys, great and small, black and brown, before she makes a man. All this, and much more, it is true he has not explained, but he has told us that our earliest ancestor or progenitor is an Ascidian (a cell), and that in a long course of ages, by the agency of his gossip 'Development,' the cell becomes this, that, and the other, the penultimate change being into a monkey, and the ultimate into a man. Harlequin's wand does nothing comparable to this. To convert a cell (a mere bag) into a man was reserved solely for 'Madame Development.' After effecting such wonders, it would be little short of high treason towards the man who discovered 'Madame Development's' powers, ungrateful, insulting, and a _sell_, indeed, had my brother omitted to take some notice of our immediate progenitors. I hope, ladies and gentlemen, you are none of you Darwinians; if you are, what a profane and sacrilegious infidel must my brother appear! Yet even here I espy some comfort if you, as well as being Darwinians, are also of the 'advanced platform,' as the phrase is in the wisdom of this nineteenth century; because then you will have mercy on me, as an insane person. Almost all murderers are, by the advanced wisdom of this same century, put down as insane, and are not to be hanged, as they deserve to be, but are to be maintained at the public expense; _i.e._, at your and my expense--though we may have wives and a dozen hungry children to provide for--in order that the murdering gentleman may have time to repent; in other words, that he may have another opportunity of imbruing his hands in another victim's blood. 'Oh, by all means abolish capital punishment!' said the witty Frenchman, 'only let the murderers set the example.' Well, sir, or madam, I hope now you will not be less merciful to me, even if you be a Darwinian, than the wise men of the advanced platform are, or would be, to the murderer. So with renewed hope, having finished the catalogue of the native inhabitants of Tollicherry, I will proceed with the promised details respecting the Moplahs.

With such superlative examples of grace and beauty as those constantly observed among the daughters of the three British Isles, and the almost irresistible power exercised by these 'Queens of Creation' over the opposite sex, we need not call in question the effects recorded of this same irresistible power in ancient days. Jove himself, it is said, could not resist the exquisite form of Leda. Troy was besieged for ten years, and destroyed at last, to recover a matchless but naughty Greek lady, who ran away from her husband with a handsome scapegrace called Paris. Antony lost the dominion of the world for Cleopatra's smile. And, coming nearer to our own times, Diana of Poitiers at sixty, so historians tell us, retained so absolutely the affections of a king of France, that he simply doted on her ('doted on her simply' would be the better form of expression). And Ninon de L'Enclos, at seventy, drove all the young bloods of Paris demented by her beauty, which, it is positively affirmed, far surpassed that of all the younger ladies who approached her. One of the greatest of the Mogul Emperors, Jehangire, was so enchanted by the charms of a Turkoman maiden, who, when she grew up, was called 'Mhere ul Nissa,' the sun of women, and was afterwards the far-famed Nour Jehan, that he committed a dreadful crime to obtain her. This lady, in the early bloom of beauty, had been brought to Delhi, was seen by Prince Jehangire, and in both bosoms a mutual passion was kindled. But she had in her infancy been betrothed to Shere Afkun, a Turkoman of noble birth and distinguished merit. According to Indian notions nothing should be suffered to interfere with the fulfilment of such a pledge, and therefore the reigning Emperor (the celebrated Akbar), from a high sense of what he believed to be right, over-ruled the wishes of the lovers, and insisted that Mhere ul Nissa should be married to Shere Afkun. Jehangire bore his despair and disappointment as he best could, until, by the death of his father Akbar, he became the Emperor of India. Then power, united with his grief and passion, overcame his better nature, and he had the unfortunate Shere Afkun murdered, and at the same time he got possession of the person of Mhere ul Nissa. But for years the guilty monarch sued in vain. At last the lady consented to be his wife and the Empress of India.

All this proves that the dominion of beauty is confined to no hemisphere, and specially serves to introduce the present narrative, which relates to a part of India which, of all others, from the debilitating nature of the climate, and the peculiar customs of the people we are to speak of, would seem to be the least likely to furnish a tale of love and passion. But however unlooked for or unexpected the usages or customs on which a story-teller founds his narrative may be, or however unusual the circumstances arising from them, he cannot be held responsible for the facts or their results, so long as it can be proved that the said usages and customs do really exist.

In the present case the Moplah customs and usages referred to practically obtain over a considerable part of the western coast of India, _i.e._, from the country of Mangalore, and from some distance north of it, to Cochin, and some distance south of it. In short, these customs are known and followed wherever the race has spread. For the details of the murder committed by these Moplahs my brother's notes are clear and precise, and for the particulars respecting Aminè after her return to her own country he declares that he gives the account as it was given to him by a Mussulman pilgrim, who, many years after the date of Aminè's death, passed _en route_ to Mecca through her native place. The Mussulman pilgrim was a merchant of Tollicherry, who, being naturally interested in her fate, from knowing how barbarously her husband had been murdered, collected all the information he could from those who had been about her. He had it written down, and on his return to India forwarded it to my brother, who was then at Madras. My brother had it translated from the Persian into English, and has embodied it in the present narrative.