to regard visitations of this character as
direct and special acts of God; as matters
which it is not only futile, but improper to
bewail. None of the villagers, men, women,
or children, exhibited any token of grief
while gazing on the lifeless bodies they
surrounded. And, on asking my bearers,
whether the parents of the children would
weep when they returned and found their
offspring thus suddenly cut off? they
replied, rather abruptly: "Why should they
weep at God's will?"

As I was preparing to leave the village,
a middle-aged woman came up to me, and
said:

"Sahib, the parents of the dead children
are very poor, and the expense of burning of
their remains will press very hard upon them.
The wood for the old man will cost eight annas,
and the fuel for each of the children four
annas; in all, one rupee."

I placed the coin in the woman's hand,
and left, besides, a donation for the bereaved
parents who were absent; having previously
called several of the villagers to witness the
proceeding. This I did at the suggestion of
the palkee bearers; who entertained some
doubts of the woman's honesty. We had
not proceeded far, when I descried a small
encampment, beneath a clump of mango
trees. It consisted of an officer's tent, and
two long tents for native soldiers sepoys.
One of these long tents was for the Hindoos;
the other for the Mussulmans. When we
came opposite to the encampment, I desired
the bearers to stop, and put some questions
to a Sepoy, who was standing near the
road. I gleaned from him that the encampment
was that of "a treasure party," consisting
of a lieutenant, and a company of
native infantry, proceeding from Mynpoorie
to Agra.

"Won't you go and see the Sahib?" asked
the Sepoy.

"I don't know him," said I.

"That does not signify," said the Sepoy.
"Our Sahib is glad to see everybody. He is
the most light-hearted man in Hindostan.
His lips are the home of laughter, and his
presence awakens happiness in the breast
of the most sorrowful. His body is small,
but his mind is great; and, in his eyes, the
Hindoo, the Mussulman, and the Christian,
are all equal."

This description, I confess, aroused my
curiosity to see so philosophical a lieutenant,
and it was not long before my curiosity was
gratified; for he made his appearance at
the door of his tent; and, observing my
palkee bore down upon it.

The lieutenant wore a pair of white pyjamahs,
which were tucked up to his knees,
no shoes, or stockings; a blue shirt, no coat,
no jacket; a black neck-tie, and a leather
helmet with a white covering, such as one
sees labelled in the shop-windows "for India."
His person was very small certainly, and the
calves of his legs not bigger than those of
a boy of twelve years of age. In his mouth
he had a huge (number one) cheroot, and, in
his hand, a walking-stick, with a waist nearly
as big as his own. Resting his chest upon
this walking-stick, and looking me full in the
face, perfectly ignorant, and seemingly
indifferent, as to whether I might be a secretary
to the government, or a shopkeeper, he thus
familiarly accosted me:

"Well, old boy, how do you feel after the
shower"

"Very well, I thank you."

"Come in and have a cup of tea, and a
round of toast, if you are not in a hurry to
get on. It will set you up, and make you
feel comfortable for the night." This offer
was so tempting, and so cordially made, that
I was induced to accept it.

"Bring the Sahib into my tent, in the
palkee," said Lieutenant Sixtie to my bearers,
and then addressing me, he remarked: "Don't
get out. You'll wet your slippers."

The bearers followed the lieutenant, and
put down my palkee upon two tiers of small
boxes, which were spread over the space of
ground covered by the tent.

"I was obliged to resort to this box
dodge," said my host, "or I should have
been drowned. I wish I owned only a
quarter of this rhino we are treading on. If
I did, catch me at this work any longer, my
masters!" It was the treasure that the boxes
contained, in all about twenty-five thousand
pounds. "Look here, old boy. Forego,
like a good fellow, the tea and the toast.
My servants will have such a bother to get
a fire and boil water. Have some biscuits
and cold brandy-and-water instead. You
should never drink tea while travelling. It
keeps you awake; and, what is more, it
spoils the flavour of your cheroots. By the
bye, have one of these weeds."

I thanked my host; and, without any sort
of pressing, yielded to his every wish—even
unto playing ecarte with him, while
smoking his cheroots, and drinking his
brandy-and-water. The stakes were not
very high. Only a rupee a game. During
the deals my host would frequently
exclaim:

"By Jove! what a god's send it is to have
some one to talk to for a few hours! I
have been out for five days; and, during
that time, have not uttered a word in my
own language. Haven't had the luck to
come across a soul. This escorting treasure
is the most awful part of an officer's duty,
especially at this season of the year."

"But it must be done," I suggested.

"Yes. But why not by native officers?"

"Would the treasure be safe with them?"

"Safe? Just as safe as it is now, if not
safer; for, although I am responsible for the
money in these boxes, I don't know that the
whole amount is there. I didn't count it;
and, if there was any deficiency, I should say