middle of the forehead, was surmounted
by the most respectable of caps. She was
absorbed in the perusal of a large book,
which lay open before her. Not knowing
how I should be received, I refrained from
interrupting her studies, and took a leisurely
survey of the room.

In shape it was a prism. The ceiling
and floor were equilateral triangles, and
the walls were, consequently, three in
number. The table, too, was triangular,
so were the seats of the chairs, each of
which had three legs, and a huge bird-
cage, containing a vulture, was in keeping
with the furniture. Door, window, or
fireplace, there was none; the only admission
to fresh air being afforded by a triangular
ventilator, immediately under the
ceiling. On the few shelves, which broke
the monotony of the walls, were placed
some old books, two or three bottles, and
several knives or daggers of Oriental
fashion. But the most singular object was
a hideous Indian idol, like those that represent
the horrible wife of Siva, which stood
in a corner, and before which was a
prismatic stone, exactly similar in its
proportions to the room.

"Well, George," said the old lady,
suddenly raising her eyes from her book,
and looking at me full in the face, "so
you have condescended to visit me at
last."

Though my name is not George, I felt
that I was the person addressed, so I began
politely to deny the condescension.

"Pooh-pooh! never mind compliments.
You are here, and that is the great matter.
I see you are rather astonished at the
appearance of my room. It is somewhat
close; but then it's very snug, and quite
good enough for a simple body like me."

"Unique in its structure, at any rate,"
I said, endeavouring to admire. "I am
rather curious to know how one enters it."
"Indeed, I wonder at that, when you
yourself found your way so readily," she
replied, with a slight laugh.

I felt uneasy, for I did not care to
describe my passage through the glass, but
the old lady did not seem anxious for an
explanation, since she immediately added,
"It would not do to have a room too easy
of access, when things of this sort are
flying about."

With these words, she opened a drawer
in her table and took out a printed hand-
bill, with the formidable heading, "One
Hundred Pounds Reward." This she
placed in my hands, and I learned from
its contents that a butcher-boy had been
missed by his employers, under
circumstances that led to the suspicion of murder,
and that the reward was offered for the
apprehension of the supposed assassins.

"Luckily he did not live in the
neighbourhood. But on the whole it is better
not to venture beyond beggars and ticket-
of-leave men."

"Venture what?" I inquired.

"Immolation!" was the reply.

"Immo——"I faltered. "Then it is
your opinion that the unhappy boy was
really murdered?"

"Really immolated? Of course I do.
It would be very absurd if I thought otherwise,
when I performed the sacrifice with
my own hands."

"Atrocious wretch!——" I began.

"Hoity-toity!" interposed the old lady.
"Don't let us lose our tempers."

And really when I looked at her calm
face, I felt that wrath was impossible. She
was some harmless lunatic, who owned to
crimes she had never committed.

"I bore the boy no ill-will;" she
proceeded, "he was as well-behaved a lad as one
would wish to see. I would gladly have
given the preference to a mischievous little
vagabond, who rings my bell regularly
every Saturday afternoon, in celebration,
I suppose, of his half-holiday; but the
butcher-boy came handy, and when one
can't have what one wants, one must take
what one can get."

"But why mur—that is, immolate
anybody?" I inquired, intending to humour
her delusion.

"That I can easily explain," she
replied. "You have doubtless heard that
there is in India a secret sect of devotees,
who term themselves Thugs."

"I have read of that detestable fraternity
in the Wandering Jew of Eugene Sue," I
responded.

"Your strong expression, at which I
take no offence, shows that you are not
unacquainted with our principles. I am a
Thug, and veil the fact by assuming the
name of Thugleigh."

It struck me that a thicker veil might
have been afforded by the name of Smith
or Brown, but I did not interrupt.

"I therefore, on principle," she
proceeded, "offer at least once a month a
human sacrifice to the Goddess Bowanee,
whose effigy you see in that corner."

"I would rather not have known this
circumstance," said I. "Indeed, as your
society is, as you say, secret, it seems to
me that you break your rules by making
me your confidant."