Randolph Methyl : a story of Anglo-Indian life
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Hiwll -ti i««fc mmif^ W§&i B S^:". '‘rfn^Kjj : !riBL-r ■ *::^.yw&<Eb" j4v^ ^ry 22900002049 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from Wellcome Library https://archive.Org/details/b29001936_0002 ■t f' 4 ■ « , % i •I- 4 .1 a 1 A STOEY OF ANGLO-mDM LIFE. BT THE AUTHOE OF THE ‘‘HISTORY OF THE SIEGE OF DELHI.” VOLUME II. LONDON: WARD AND LOCK, 158 FLEET STREET. 3863. [The Ri-ght of Translation is resoi'ved hy the Author.} LONDON: PETTER AND GALPINj BELLE SALVAGE PRINTING WORKS, LUDGATE HILL, E.C. * RANDOLPH METHYL. CHAPTER I. WAR SEEN PROM BEHIND— RANDOLPH’S WOUND — PEDIGREE AND HISTORY OP MANHRAT, THE SON OP RATTAN. In the evening doolies and carts bearing sick and wounded men came from every hospital in the camp, till, joining together, they formed a long train of unfortunates. In one litter lay a man with his leg amputated above the knee; in another, a man recovering from an attack of cholera ; and behind him might be seen one reduced to a shadow by chronic dysentery. The procession crossed the bridge and awajr-'past the field of Badle Serai. The wounded soldiers thought tearfully of their comrades sleeping there quietly under the plashing ground. They got safely to Khai, two marches from Delhi. Here they rested for the night ; some 6 EANDOLPH METHYL. refreshment was prepared and served out to the fainting invalids ; and such as were able to sleep had forgotten their pain in their exhaustion, when they were awakened by cries of alarm and the clatter of horses’ hoofs along the road. The enemy’s sowars are upon us,” was the cry. It turned out to be the Sikh horsemen whom Bakht Khan had dislodged from Alipore, and the alarm was allayed when they heard that the rebels were still some miles off. They made another march, and heard no more of the enemy. The last stage was from Pipli to Umballa, for the sick the most tiresome of all. Every one was wearied with continual shifting, loss of sleep, and want of proper nourishment and attendance. Their wounds were undressed and uncomfortable, and their bedding dirty and soaked with rain. Invalids, however, can bear travelling better than physicians in Europe have had any opportunities of knowing. To be sure, travelling by litter is the easiest method by which a sick man could be transported. Ran- dolph wearied sorely to see the first bungalow of the cantonment, and was continually asking Manu- THEY REACH UMBALLA. 7 rat (who, having deposited his bundle upon the top of the doolie, trotted along by his side) Avhether they had yet come near Umballa. With that anxiety to convey pleasing information character- istic of natives, he stated the place was at hand when it was more than five miles off, and seemed less sure of its being near the farther they got on their way. The slowest trot comes to an end at last, and at some hour in the night the wearied bearers reached Umballa, and deposited their load in the verandah of one of the barracks. Randolph remained in the doolie till morning, when the superintending surgeon and the staff surgeon came to see the wounded. Two better or kinder-hearted men never approached a sick bed, Randolph was struck by the remarkable quickness and sagacity shown by the staff surgeon in taking up the details of every new case as it came before him, and the singularly correct estimate he formed of the state of health of each patient. He felt Randolph’s pulse, looked at his face, and then at the wound. “It is not healing so kindly as we could 8 RANDOLPH METHYL. wish/’ said lie ; you must go to the hills at once, when I hope it will take on a new action.” Manurat was very discontented when he heard they were going to the hills. He requested permis- sion to go and see his wife at Meerut ; and one night, having, as it afterwards turned out, smoked a quantity of chmTus ^^with three brothers of Jallander,” he came up to his master’s room, and insisted that he had dismissed him from his service. Randolph wished to allow the man leave, on his pro- mising that he would return after a stipulated time ; but the doctor would not hear of it ; he would get his throat cut on the road, and where would he get such a servant again ? So the bearer was satisfied with a Treasury draft for thirty rupees, which he got to send to his wife. During the three days they were at Umballa, Manurat managed to fill up the ranks of the under- servants, as he thought it proper he should be independent of the hill people, who, he observed, were very bad and deceitful men. Manurat’s pedigree was interesting. His grandfather had been a bearer in the days of Warren Hastings, and manurat’s pedigree. 9 liad accompanied his master to Madras, where he had attended him very faithfully in a long illness. The gentleman, on leaving for England, gave him a thousand rupees, an immense sum for a native ; and he returned, like a man who had made his fortune, to his native village, near Cawnpore. The family chronicles state that he possessed a camel, a horse, and a palki, and gave many sweetmeats to holy Brahmins. The old gentleman was of course an object of great veneration amongst his relations ; but, unhappilyj beginning to question the dis- interestedness of their motives, he became suspicious and misantln-opical. He sold the camel, horse, and palki at the most advantageous terms he could, and concentrating all his property into a heavy bag of rupees, he solemnly walked to the Ganges, which was conveniently near, followed by all his relations and friends, endeavouring to dissuade him. Hav- ing bid them farewell, with much politeness, he threw himself into the holy stream, with the bag of rupees tied round his neck ; neither the one nor the other being ever more heard of. His son. Rattan, being thus deprived both of his father and inherh 10 RANDOLPH METHYL. tance, lived some time as a ryot in the village, where a singular accident befell him. One night he was sleeping by the side of his wife, when a terrible J figure appeared before his bed, and told him to come along with him. This was the messenger of death. Poor Rattan was obliged to go, and was rapidly conducted by the same figure, and another like him, over the earth’s surface, till they came to the foot of a ladder. It was very wide, and the top reached to heaven. They held him between them, and made him ascend. On reaching the top he was hurried away to an immense chamber, in which was seated an awful figure, who wore on his head a red pugarie, which touched the roof. The chamber was like a cutchery, and all around were rolls, which contained a record of the deeds of every living man. A number of souls was waiting for judgment. One, the shade of a wealthy, but avaricious merchant, was ordered to live upon the money which he had given in charity to the poor, in the course of his life. The amount was credited to him once a year. Another, the soul of a great rajah, very fond of making war upon his neighbours, A GLIMPSE BEYOND THE GRAVE. 11 was condemned to bear all the misery and wounds he had himself brought amongst others. At last / Rattan’s turn came. ^A¥ho is this?” said the heavenly judge. This is the man Rattan, whom you summoned.” This is not the man. His day of death is not yet come. Take him away to his own house again. The man whom I wanted lives in the village of Kannaghar, near Cawnpore ; his name is also Rattan, and he is an oil-seller.” Our friend was very much relieved, on hearing this respite, and began to talk with the two figures, as they led him away. They allowed him to look about him a little. He saw^ many beautiful gardens, tanks, and palaces, which were the reward of a virtuous life upon earth. He saw a great many Hindus, especially Brahmins. There might have been plenty Mahomedans and Christians, but he did not notice any. How^ever, they did not allow him to stay long; but took him down the ladder, and restored his soul to the copper-coloured body which it had left a short while before. Rattan awoke with a start and a shout, which 12 RANDOLPH METHYL. awakened everybody in the house. Is there a man Eattan, an oil- seller in Kannaghar village ? ” cried he. Go and see if he is dead, or not.” He then related his story ; and a messenger was sent. The morning was breaking when he arrived, and the man’s mother was sitting; working; at the door. On his inquiring for her son, she w’'ent into the house, but presently gave utterance to a shriek of horror. Eattan, the oil-seller, was lying dead in his bed. Wishing to get out of the reach of another mistake of this kind, perhaps not so easily mended, the other Eattan left his village, without mentioning where he was going ; and took service as a bearer with an English gentleman. He was at the siege of Bhartpur, and, like most of his class, had a great variety of masters, in whose services he travelled and campaigned over almost the whole of India. He supposed that, having died once, he was allowed a second lease of life, commencing from the date of his resurrection ; and certain it is, that at this time, though an extremely old man, he was still hale and vigorous, able to beat his wife, and walk ten miles a day. His intelligence was also good, and he THE bearer’s campaignings. 13 wrote beautifully in tlie Nagari cliaracter. He be- lieved bis age to be a hundred years. It could not well be less than eighty — a great age for a native. He had had three families. The first two were all dead. My sons,” he said, turned old men be- fore me ; their hair became white, and their teeth fell out.” The bearer’s mother was a cross old woman ; when her husband beat her, she used to refuse to eat anything. Cicero has remarked, whilst dilating on the advantages of old age, that little old women can endure the want of food for two or three days ; and certain it is, that old Rattan generally repented of allowing his passions to get so much mastery over him. Manurat was his youngest son ; at this time he was about twenty- seven years of age. When a boy, he had followed his father in the last Cabul campaign, and served with Captain Dean Sahib, “ Tird Dragoons,” in the battles of the Punjaub ; but such fighting as at Delhi he Imd never seen before. Since the world was created,” he used to say, such a war never was.” He had a profound hatred of the Sepoys, having stolen one of their wives, as he understood 14 RANDOLPH METHYL. it was an old custom witli the Hindus, that a man should select his own partner, if his father had neg- • lected to provide one for him. However, this high caste alliance had offended his brothers — that is, those of his own caste. They sat in judgment upon him, and compelled him to pay fifty rupees to pur- chase wine, flesh, and sweetmeats to themselves. Three days they feasted ; and at the end of the third, they gave the hukka to Manurat, as a sign that he and his lady were admitted into the brother- V hood of the Chamar. Manurat had no children, but had been be- queathed two from his sister, whom he treated as his own. In fact, he had shown them to Randolph as his, with that weak disposition to tell untruths which even the most honest natives cannot avoid. He had also given out his caste to be Kahar instead of Chamar — a shade of superiority indifferent to a European. These two delusions he kept up with a pertinacity and caution that astonished Randolph very much, who one day accidentally found out that they were untrue. What witli keeping his old lather and mother, his wife, and the two children, HIS ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 15 Maniirat was always in debt ; wliiclij lioweverj lie took very easily. He grumbled more at the be- haviour of his badmash brother, as he called him, who refused to help to support his parents, and threatened that he would destroy his caste if he persisted in his undutiful conduct. A better servant than Manurat could not be. He could pitch a tent, saddle a horse, load a camel, or a revolver, with the same dexterity. Every- thing in camp or cantonment he could do. He kept the other servants in order, and was always cheerful and contented himself. In his manners and address he was free and open ; that is, with natives, as behoves a man who has seen much of the world. His conversation was intelligent 0j^Q^igh j but he was a man of deeds, not woids, and had not the literary accomplishments of his sire. He could not write, and would not learn. Randolph, during his illness, tried to teach him. He committed to heart the names of the Persian characters, but Randolph failed to make him understand their power ; he could not perceive why h-a-j) should make lap^ any more than a-h-p or 16 KANDOLPH METHYL. 'p-a-h. He attributed this to the want of a quality called sarsatti. If a man had sarsatti, he could learn to read without difficulty ; if he had not, he could not. Boys required beating in addition to correct their natural indolence and tendency to play. He himself had no sarsatti, and how could he learn to read ? He was not an indolent man, and never played. This, however, was rather too flattering; like most natives, he passed a good part of his time in sleeping, and was very fond of playing at marbles, for money, with any one who was hardy enough to try his skill against him. The remainder of his leisure time was passed in smoking and getting himself shaved. He was not fond of going to the bazaar. In person he was about the middle height of natives, which is rather lower than that of Europeans. He had a good face, bright eyes, and a manly and intelligent expression ; lie was broad-shouldered, with small hands and feet, and very neatly made ; in com- plexion rather darker than the majority of his race. Randolph remembered distinctly that the Sepoy in the terrible affair at the mess-room had called RANDOLPH SENT TO THE HILLS. 17 him a chamar ; this Maiiurat was able to explain. Our hero had, one day, detailed to the subahdar the story of his descent from the redoubtable tanner of Ostermarch ; and the old scoundrel had spread through the regiment that Methyl Sahib’s family were chamars, that is, workers in leather, men of the lowest caste in India. Randolph was again propped up in a doolie for his journey to the hills. Starting in the evening with a torch-bearer, ere morning he was at Kalka. He noticed that the night air was considerably cooler as tliey neared the mountains; but there was no ascent or break in the level plain of Hindu- stan till, a few paces beyond the hotel, the heights of Kussouli shot up towards the sky. Bearers were provided to carry him up the hill — sturdy mountain lads, who tied poles to the doolie, and lifted it up on their shoulders. Randolph felt how weak and unnerved sickness had made him. He clun^r to the doolie as it swayed up and down on the edge of the precipices that sank from the narrow road winding and twisting to the top of the hill ; the slightest start of the bearers seemed enough to pre- YOL. II. B 18 RANDOLPH METHYL. cipitate him thousands of feet. He felt it hot enough at first, but soon got into cooler currents of air. The bamboo and banana were no more seen, and in their places came the pine and barberry ; and twining round them, or clinging to the clefts, at their roots, the convolvulus and the St, John’s wort, and many a plant, and many a fiower, that brought back thoughts of home. There was no sound on the hill side save the tramp of the bearers and the wind sighing among the Himalayan pines; but at last they heard the voices of Europeans and the baying of bull-dogs. At a sudden turn of the road the doolie stood level on the parade ground. There were English ladies seated on the verandahs of the barracks and children playing at the doors. In a few minutes he was in the dak buiifralow of Kuss-ouli. CHAPTER IL MRS. morris’s goldene hochzeit, and her first visit TO THE HILLS — INDIA BEFORE THE DELUGE. We must now return to Mrs. Morris and her spouse. After their marriage they set off to Mr. Morris’s district at Madhuganj in a palki gari. The Com- missioner had bought a new one for the purpose. All pockets and receptacles were stuffed with pro- visions and things likely to be wanted on the road, and on the top were seated his khidmutgar and her ayah. Nevertheless, they seemed to have little pleasure in their jommey. A palki gari is rather a confined conveyance, and the presence of another person, especially in hot weather, becomes a silent annoyance. We know already that Mrs. Morris was dissatis- fied with herself and her choice. A haughty woman with an irritable temper, in such a frame of B 2 20 EANDOLPH METHYL. mind, cannot travel long with any one without finding some exciting cause for dispute and ■wrangling. It was the second day before an open rupture took place. They had stopped at a small dak bungalow near a little town, and the Khansamah promised to give them some mutton to dinner. It turned out so very bad that the disappointed Commissioner, who observed no bounds of temper with natives, slashed the whole of it on the face and turban of the un- fortunate Mussulman. It would be difficult, at this distance of time and space, to settle who was most in fault. ISTew comers in India are apt to blame older residents for what their experience teaches them to be but neces- sary self-defence. Mrs. Morris criticised her spouse’s treatment of the man ; she thought that he had done his best ; declared that the fowl and curry he brought were delicious, and suspected that the mutton was good enough, ^Ir. Morris dined upon six hard-boiled eggs. There was a long dispute, and finally a quarrel. ft That day Mrs. Morris took up the attitude of THE CIVIL STATION. 21 defender of tlie natives ; and certainly she had an onerous and thanldess task. Mr. Morris was a rough, overbearing man, harsh and oppressive in his own district. He was accustomed to rule, and any contradiction goaded him to fury. Her inter- ference only made him worse. There was little to satisfy her when she reached her new home. The house was a plain but roomy cottage ; the furniture scanty and inelegant ; the garden trampled down and full of weeds. Hew furniture was got, and an expensive piano ordered from Calcutta, but, un- happily, they could not change their residence, save to a worse house, for the best in the civil lines had been secured by the assistant- surgeon in charge, who was an older resident than the Commissioner. Europeans in India live in very much the same style, and enjoy very much the same conveniences and luxuries. The Commissioner rode to the cutchery on a three hundred rupee horse, and only differed from the rest in putting more rupees at the end of the month into the bag. The military cantonment was five miles off, through a large native town. 22 RANDOLPH METHYL. and there was little intercourse with the officers. The civilians associated with one another. Each knew the value of his own society, and would not give it to any one, save on terms of perfect equality. The natives certainly salaamed low enough to the bara sahib, and the sirdars in the neighbourhood were eager to please him, but what did any one care for them ? Natives and Europeans never speak with one another, save to transact necessary business. Her husband became more and more disagree- able to her every day; she longed for his going away in the morning, and saw him retm’ii wdth a feeling of disappointment every evening. He him- self had married, thinking it would increase his direct happiness, and was shocked at the result. He was anxious to bring matters to a more satis- factory footing ; but after all, what could he do ? Their tastes were perfectly uncongenial ; things went in their inevitable train — estrangement, peev- ishness, irritation, and wrangling. The one always found reason to disagree with what the other said. She regarded him as a coarse, tyrannical, selfish, DOMESTIC WARFAEE. and sensual man ; she had no eye for his good qualities, and no charity for his failings. In truth, she liked to hear of them, as she made every one of them an excuse for her own behaviour to him. He soon began to regard her as an insolent, extra- vagant, and capricious young woman, who had married him from mercenary motives, and thought it unnecessary to have his good will any longer. He determined to make her feel how much she was still dependent upon him ; and she soon began to quail before him, though not to yield to him. The civil war soon showed itself without ; each had his own adherents and allies. He began to find his house so disagreeable, that he rejoiced when busi- ness led him to take his tents, and go into the district. She neither regretted his absence nor welcomed his return. At last they became so much annoyed and irritated at one another, that she would not speak to him for weeks at a time. The Commissioner was accustomed to female society, but not to female caprice. He had led a rather dis- solute life, and his native mistresses had tried to please him like slaves. He compared, with sadness. 24 KANDOLrri METHYL. their soft and voluptuous endearments to her bitter manner and unyielding disposition. There was a ^^girhisti” in the station who had had a child to him, but whom he had pensioned off before his marriage. She was soon informed of the discord between the newly-married pair, and sent him a message, im- ploring him to come and see his child. One day, while he was in the district, one of her women ven- tured to tell Mrs. Morris that he had visited this woman several times. At first she would scarcely believe it ; but the woman brought proofs she could not resist. She remembered the conversation of the two servants she had overheard at Meerut. Her ayah easily read the expression of rage and shame upon her countenance. He is a very bad man,” said she. What a shame, when he has so beauti- ful a wife ! My husband was a great scoundrel, and brought another woman into the house ; but I left him, and ran away to my father, and now do the work of an ayah.” Her father — Mrs. Morris had been thinking of him of late ; he wrote her very affectionate letters now ; and she sent him money. It was two or three days before the Commissioner MRS. morris’s tactics. 25 came back, and she had time to turn the matter over. She would not have any open rupture or separation, but remain with him she would not. She understood clearly what to do. She could leave for the hills, and manage to get the doctor to advise her to return to Europe, in the cold weather, for her health, when she could live very comfortably with her father, drawing remittances from her un- faithful spouse. When he returned, she stated her resolution to go to the hills at once, before the hot season was further advanced. It was towards the end of March. He opposed it at first, more out of a desire to annoy her, than from any wish to enjoy her company in the hot season. This was overcome. She intended to go to Simla. The Commissioner would not con- sent to it. He had heard officers boasting of the impressions they had made on the hearts of married ladies at that gay sanitarium ; and had resolved that no wife of his should ever o;o there. What objection can you have to me going to Simla, save that it is the healthiest and most plea- sant of all the hill stations ? ” 26 RANDOLPH METHYL. “ Very likely. They are all very much alike ; You will find Nynee Tal or Kuss-ouli quite as pleasant.” Perhaps I shall like them better.” I have no doubt you will/’ said the Com- missioner, blandly. Then let me visit them all, and I’ll choose the one I like best.” I have already told you that I do not wish you to go to Simla.” Yes, but you never gave me any reasons.” Well, what of that? Don’t bother me for reasons.” Because if you have none, you may change vour mind to-morrow.” I do not see what right you have to peer into people’s reasons.” Well, when I am expected to act upon them, you may excuse me wishing to know them. Simla is a very good sanitarium, and the society there is better than any other place.” The society is rather too gay for one so young and inexperienced as you.” A JEALOUS HUSBAND. 27 Oh, that is your reason/’ said Mrs. Morris, who knew what it was very well all along ; la helle raison. You think, I suppose, that I shall spend too much money. I’ll take care of that, and send you down my bills every month, to audit.” This was a cut at a recent attempt at retrenchment by the Commissioner. “It is not that at all,” roared Morris ; “ but I don’t think you are fit to take care of yourself.” “ Ah, well ; deprived of your valuable precepts, and still more immaculate example, there is no saying what may become of me ; but I can tell you it is exceedingly wrong of you to slander the society of a place — people who are much better than yourself.” “ Very likely they are,” quoth the Commis- sioner ; “ but go to Simla you shall not.’’' His buggy was brought at the moment, and he rode away to the cutchery in a humour which frightened hi§ native officials to death. The con- test was carried on with great obstinacy on both sides ; but the Commissioner was so persistent that Mrs. Morris was at last inclined to yield to the 28 RANDOLPH METHYL. suggestions of her ayah, who advised her to pro- mise to go to Kussouli, and then she could easily say that there was no suitable house to be let at that place, when she could proceed to Simla. Her pride revolted at such a stratagem, but she used it nevertheless. Mr. Morris was furious when he understood the nature of the trick played upon him. He could not help himself, however. Simla* is, as the reader probably knows, a large sanitarium in the Himalayas, the houses and cottages built here and there on the level plots of a high mountain peak six marches from the plains. The climate during the summer months is much finer than that of most hill stations. The scenery around is remarkable for' its severe beauty ; but the hills are too steep even for an active pedes- trian, and the roads are few and narrow. Mrs. Morris took a beautiful buno;alow in Chota Simla. She soon found herself in the middle of the societv for which she had so long wished. The Commander-in-Chief, with his * There is a description of Simla in the author’s “ History of the Siege of Delhi.” MRS. MORRIS AT SIMLA. 29 staff, took up his residence at Simla, and a recent general order,” facilitating absence on leave, let loose a number of the gayest young officers of both services, from all parts of India. Of course there was a great majority of lady residents, and though most of them were married, some seemed willing enough to wile away tedious hours in the society of the gentlemen that were near. Mrs. Morris had plenty of admirers, and gave herself up to that love of admiration which she had long promised to gratify. This love of admiration has to some minds the effect that wine, opium, or haschisch has to the nervous system. One finds it pleasant at first ; requires it in ever increasing quantities, and becomes utterly miserable if it is withheld ; and forgets health, fame, and fortune in order to retain its indulgence. Her whole life was a series of entertainments, halls, pic-nics, and rides on the course, accompanied by her different admirers. To pay open attentions to a married lady was a thing that now and then passed unchallenged at Simla ; as people said, what was the harm of it? Mrs. Morris,” wrote a kind friend to the Com- 30 RANDOLPH METHYL. missioner, is attracting universal admiration by her beauty, accomplishments, and amiable dispo- sition. I congratulate you most sincerely upon the prize you have gained.” Two or three days after a khidmatgar he had sent along with her returned to Madhuganj, saying the mem sahib had dismissed him for some quarrel with her ayah. Does the mem sahib amuse herself much? ” She takes much pleasure ; she never remains in the house,” said he. Does any one come to see her?” asked the Commissioner. Without doubt, Gharibparwar, many young sahibs come to visit her ; that’s the custom,” said the fellow. Mr. Morris could not ask him any more for very shame ; besides, he knew that what the man said could not be relied on. He wrote Mrs. Morris letters full of good advice, which she never read through. In truth, she imagined that her duty to him was entirely gone, the tie broken by himself. She had selected her house for its romantic situa- SIMLA SCANDALS. 31 tion upon the edge of a cliff, with rocks rising above and sinking below, clothed with pine and dark green cedars ; but its deep quiet soon became too terrible for her. She did not like to reflect, and scarcely ever passed an evening in her own house. A French or German lady would be astonished at the liberty conceded to English ladies in the hills. Thev come thousands of miles alone, or accompanied by a native servant, take a house situated on an isolated plot of level ground, and live there five or six months. To say the bare truth, we believe that they fully deserve the confidence reposed in them ; Englishwomen are the most faithful of wives, but, as we all know, the four-footed ox may stumble. Sad occurrences sometimes take place with women surrounded by all their connections, and while still the object of the care, solicitude, and attention of their husbands; and to think that such things do not now and then happen, where the temp- tation is so much greater, the opportunity and the means of concealment almost perfect, is a very 32 RANDOLPH METHYL. strange fancy indeed. In Simla, especially, there is much gaiety and much scandal, which has a great chance to alight upon any lady who openly attracts the attention of the one sex and provokes the envy of the other. Unpleasant surmises began to be buzzed about respecting the conduct of Mrs. Morris and the admiration a young Engineer officer lavished upon her. The rumours seemed light and uncertain, but did not pass away. The hints began to get broader and broader, and, with the more heedless and malicious, to pass into formal assertions. Some ladies were chary of associating with her, others began to avoid her altogether, and it was only the more thoughtless that met her on terms of friendship. Really, what a number of attentions are thrown away upon married ladies,” remarked Mrs. Price (the wife of Major Price, of the Kanna Infantry, and proprietress of two unmarried daughters) at a tea-party of select dowagers. Tliere is that Lieu- tenant Beattie continually running after young Mrs. Morris. I wonder he does not take up with her friend Miss McLeod.” ATTEMPT AT POISONING. 33 Perhaps Mrs. Morris and she will put their heads together to catch him/’ suggested Mrs. Lane, who was good-natured. Oh, no ; Miss McLeod has got other irons in the fire. Did you hear of the desperate attempt she made to carry off the Assistant- Commissioner ? (Breathless attention.) She ran into his house, one morning, in an easy negligeSj with a cup of coffee in her hand, crying out — ‘ Oh, Mr. Carey, would you just taste this coffee, and see if there is poison in it ? for poor dear mamma has been so ill after drinking it. I am afraid our khidmatgar wanted to poison us. We are really so lonely and unpro- tected.’ “ The Assistant- Commissioner cried out — ^ Do you think I am going to poison myself? ’ He seemed much amused by her simplicity.” Oh, yes, very simple indeed,” sneered Mrs. (Colonel) Budd. The cup was sent to the civil surgeon, to s^e if there was arsenic in it; but he was quite out of humour, and sent back a chit, say- ing, it was nothing but remarkablv bad coffee.” “Who is Mrs. MMeod? ” VOL. II. c 34 EANDOLPH METHYL. She is the widow of an officer who was killed in the Afghan war, and has come here to get her daughter married. It is a pity she shows it so much.” But about Mrs. Morris,” said Mrs. Budd. “ Her behaviour is really getting too bad. Did you hear tliat they are going to make a party into the interior ? ” ^^Who?” Mrs. Morris, and, of course. Lieutenant Beattie, Miss McLeod, Mrs. Ashton, Lieutenant Colpin, and that rude man Biggs. They are going to take a hill tent with them, in case they should not all get accommodation in the dak bungalow.” I thought Lieutenant Colpin was engaged to Miss Somers,” said Mrs. Price. “ So he is, or was ; for he seems to have forgotten it, and is running after Mrs. Morris almost as hard as Beattie. After all, it is a pity slie is losing her- self so much ; she is a beautiful creature, and, I believe, very accomplished.” I wonder nobody speaks to her about it,” said the good-natured Mrs. Lane. MRS. MORRIS UNDER REVIEW. 35 Much good that would do ; I should not like to be the person/’ replied Mrs. Budd. “ She is as haughty as Lucifer, and knows well enough what she is doing. Can you imagine what she did the other night at the Thibet Club Ball? She was dancing with a tall, fine-looking gentleman, with moustaches, who, she believed, was attached to the Horse Artillery, as indeed he was ; but somebody whispered her that he was the ^ vet,’ and she left him to make his own way in the middle of a quadrille.” Oh, poor creature,” said Mrs. Lane, that was too bad ! ” Well, I don’t know,” said Mrs. Budd ; a lady must keep up her dignity.” I remember,” rejoined Mrs. Lane, I once heard a story of a young Artillery officer, of a bourgeois family, who asked a young lady of no- bility to dance with him, at an Imperial ball at Vienna. She'* refused, with the utmost hauteur. The young Emperor, who overheard her, turned to the officer, and, leading him up to a lady present, \ said, ^ My mother will dance with you.’ ” c 2 36 EANDOLPH METHYL. Gay times these were before the deluge ; nothing but courtship, and flirtation, and marrying, and balls, and excursions, and drinking ; war was a mere parade. Hindustan was all conquered, and the army a useful institution enough, since it gave cadetships to their sons, and good matches to their daughters. The Sepoys, who dressed up like mon- keys in red coats and pipe clay pouch belts, com- posed the dusky masses that moved up and down to order over the parade ground. What were they ? Poor, humble, faithful creatures, who were, un- fortunately, heathens ; but who would soon sit at the feet of the missionaries, repeating the Creed and Catechism. He that is giddy, thinks the world turns round. CHAPTER III. MRS. MORRIS AND PARTY SET OFF TO “ THE INTERIOR”— THEY ARE SUDDENLY RECALLED — THE AUTHOR CON- SOLES THE READER WITH A LONG DIGRESSION — THE SIMLA PANIC. Mrs. Morris and her party set off on their excur- sion, vowing they would go as far as Chin. Struck by the unique grandeur of the view, they halted at the dak bungalow there, and Mrs. Morris and Lieu- tenant Beattie commenced making sketches ; and ^Hhat rude man Biggs” went away to fish in the Greganga. Who has been at Ten, and has forgotten it? The mountains here form the rim of a deep, wide gulf, which, on three sides, sinks thousands of feet, by felk*and precipice, reminding one of the depressions which astronomers describe as darken- ing: the surface of the moon. The southern side, somewhat less rugged, completes the circumference KANDOLPH METHYL. o r> Ob of fully ten miles. The hills that enclose the gulf take every variety of shape, borne by the Schis- tose rocks forming their summits, which send their roots down into the ravines below, every sheltered, sloping hollow dark with the foliage of the cedar, cypress, pine, and rhododendron. The eye searches in vain among the jungles, ravines, and broken little hills, which tear the depths of this enormous chasm, for a valley pleasant with meadows, and cottages, and fields. Here and there, on the slopes looking northward, are a few loosely piled stone huts, with a little spot of wheat or rice ; but the growl of the bear, the chattering of the monkey, the flight of innumerable birds of strange plumage, that rise at the footsteps of the hunter, who stumbles into its uneven recesses, show how little the hand of man is felt in this wilderness. On the mountain barrier of the southern side there is a hill, from the top of which one sees that he has left behind a lofty peak, whose summit is white with snow. It bears the name of Chandi- Pahar, or the Silver Mountain. Descending upon the shoulder of the hill, towards the chasm, one SUNSETS IN THE HIMALAYAS. 39 conies upon a long ledge of level ground of several acreSj wooded with the pine, holm oak, and bar- berry, and covered with a flora such as the English eye recognises as familiar. Open glades, here and there, invite one to sit down on the virgin turf, and pluck the violet and the thyme, or pick the wild strawberry or yellow bramble of the hills. There is a small pond, where the Paharis drive their cattle for water, when the sinking sun throws down the long shadows of the hills across one another. These beautiful and lonely sunsets on the Himalayas are fixed in my memory in never fading colours. How calm and peaceful did the sun leave the tops of the hills ! no sound save the caw of the crow, the cooing of the wild pigeon, and the voice of the par- trido-e cryino-, as the natives say, Sewan teri kudrat (^0 Grod, thy praise) \ one hears, too, the song of many a strange bird ; and, piercing through all, comes the monotonous plaint of the cuckoo ; and, latest and gweetest, the note of the nightingale.^ * There are no singing birds in the plains of India ; but many in the hills. Even parrots are brought from the hills ; their voice is considered superior. The best speaker of all^ is the maina, a kind of starling, which fetches a high price throughout India. 40 RANDOLPH METHYL. Then the deep shade of night would fall stilly upon the giant hill. No one now dares to move twenty paces, in case he should tumble over some one of the precipices that here abound. At these elevations the stars appear twice or thrice as large as below, and are particularly brilliant in the clear state of the atmosphere which follows a few days’ rain. Wearv of gazing at the heavens, and unable to penetrate the gloom of the hill- side, the eye turns to the group of servants sitting round an immense fire of pine wood. What a study for a painter ! Come, draw the Hindu visage of the bearer telling some venerable story of the Emperor Akbar and Birbal. His wife, who is very good-looking, and of a gay disposition, which has induced the bearer to drag her after him, is sitting by his elbow. Paint her two or three shades lighter than her spouse. Draw the long, solemn profile and grey beard of the khidmatgar, and the rough, shaggy, full face and bright black eyes of the bhistie, whit- tling at an enormous cudgel he has cut in the jungle. At a decent distance sits, in grave state, ^ A PICTURE FROM NATURE. 41 the Brahmin cooly, who carries the tent poleSj attired in a langoti and Brahminical thread, with his blanket hanging loosely over his shoulders. On the other side is the black, shining, smiling face and tidy guise of the dhobi, and the rough- looking syce, with his dirty, tattered pugarie and red jacket, the spoil of some Sepoy killed in the wars. As for the grass-cutters, they have all run away. The light falls on one direction, upon the side of the hill tent, securely lashed to the pine trees, and on the other are seen the heads of the horses stretched wistfully towards the blaze. Observe, they are tied by the heels, sicut nws cst iu Lidis. Horse furniture, panniers, and bridles are collected upon a cloth beside a pile of grass that a hill-man has brought in. Bravely done, good painter ! How this is a study from real life ; so don’t compare it, please, with M^Crayon’s Highland Still,” or Broad’s ''Poachers’ Hen.” Every one knows that M'Crayon pays duty for the large amount of spirituous liquors he con- sumes, and that he never saw a secret still in his life; also that Broad got the originals of all the 42 V RANDOLPH METHYL. game in his piece out of a poultry shop. He would as soon think of cutting his hair as of venturing into a poachers’ den, if they have dens at all. He is a quiet, good creature. Broad, in spite of his shaggy outside. 