English he had never heard spoken; and as
he had never been taught that language, he
did not understand a single word of it. Nor
could he read or write Hindoostanee; although
he spoke it in all its purity and elegance.

There was about to take place, a marriage
in the family of the Rajah of Pulbecala.
Mustapha Khan (Francis Gay) journeyed
from Delhi to the rajah's court, to exhibit
his jewels. He had diamonds, rubies, and
emeralds of great price, and some of these he
hoped to dispose of to advantage. The rajah,
however, had already provided himself with
these matters, and therefore confined his
purchases to a large cat's-eye ring, for which he
paid Mustapha fifty gold mohurs (eighty
pounds). On his way back to Delhi, at a
place called Kunda Ka Serai, a band of
robbers attacked the jewel-merchant. They
hacked him to pieces with their swords; but,
they spared his wife and the boy. The whole
of their treasures were stolen, even the rings
from Ellen's ears and fingers, and the gold
bangles which Chandee wore upon his arms.

When her senses were restored to her,
Ellen, with the assistance of her son, dug a
grave in the sand, and buried her butchered
husband. The bearers who carried the
palankeens ran away as soon as the robbers
attacked the party, and were no more seen.
Most probably they had some small share of
the booty, the value of which the Sirdar
estimated at four lacs of rupees (forty
thousand pounds). Whatever had been Francis
Gay's vices when a youth—and they were
great enough in all conscience—he had been
a kind and affectionate husband to Ellen, and
she most bitterly deplored his loss; violent
was the grief of Chandee, who was devotedly
fond of his father.

They heaped stones over the grave of the
dead man, to mark the spot where he was
laid, and, after their own fashion, offered up
prayers for the repose of his soul.

The murder having been committed within
the dominions of an independent prince,
Ellen knew that her wrongs were not likely
to be redressed if she complained; and that
the British Government would not interfere,
unless she made known that her husband
was an Englishman. This, she felt would be
contrary to the wishes of the dead.  Hopeless
and helpless, she and her son made the
best of their way to Delhi, where, having
collected a few debts that were due to them,
they established a small shop for the sale of
native sweet-meats. They carried on this
business for three or four years, when Chandee
grew weary of it, and set up in the world
as a box-waller, or pedlar. His box
contained pens, ink, and paper, needles, pins,
knives, scissors, soap, eau de cologne, tooth-
brushes, matches, and so forth. His customers
were the European officers, who gave him the
name of Black and Blue, from the colour of
his eyes and skin. A box-waller is always a
great cheat—as great a rascal as was
Autolycus himself; Black and Blue, if the truth
must be told, was not an exception to the rule
or race. But, no one could grudge him his
profits when the cuffs and kicks which were
playfully administered to him by the young
lieutenants and ensigns are taken into
consideration. Black and Blue always took the
rough usage of his customers in excellent part;
and would generally make some such appeal
as this (he had picked up a little English
by this time): "Ah, well! I know! You
rich white gentlemans—I poor black devil.
I pray all day all night that ensign be made
leeft'nunt; leeft'nunt, capitaine; capitaine,
capitaine-meejor; meejor, kunnull; kunnull,
meejor-jinneral; and then God bless your
father and mother, and brother and sister;
and then, for all that pray, I get so much
kick and so many bad words. God make us
all—black and white; all equal right up
above. You want blacking? Here you are.
Very good blacking—quite genuine; only
one rupee a bottle. I suppose you not got
ready money? Very well, I wait till pay-
day come. I very poor man. You my
master. Khuda Lord Kuren." The meaning
of this expression, with which most
natives wind up a speech to an European,
signifies, May God make you a lord!

When Black and Blue was no more than five
years old, he was playing one morning in
his father's compound (enclosure—the land
around a bungalow), when a pariah dog
rushed in and mangled him very severely.
The dog was rabid. Captain Gay called in
the doctor of a native cavalry regiment, who
lived in the next bungalow, and who
cauterised the wounds. The child was bitten on
the arms, legs, and chest, and was under the
doctor's treatment for upwards of five weeks.
On several occasions when he visited his
patient, the doctor saw and conversed with
Ellen, who was naturally very anxious touching
the child's safety. This doctor was one
of the number who witnessed the marriage of
Ensign Gay, at Cawnpore, and was also
present when his offspring was christened.

Shortly after the recovery of the little boy,
the doctor had been appointed a presidency
surgeon, and had charge of one of the
hospitals in Calcutta, where he remained for
upwards of twenty years. He was then
appointed superintending surgeon of the
Meerut division. He had a son at Delhi, a
lieutenant in the foot artillery, and occasionally
went over (the distance is only forty
miles from Meerut) to pay him a visit. On
one of these occasions, Black and Blue, who
had been sent for, made his appearance with
his box, sat down on the carpet cross-legged,
and opened out his treasures. There were
several young officers in the bungalow, chums
of the lieutenant; and, while the bargaining
was going on, they began to teaze Black and
Blue. One removed his turban with the
point of a stick; another, sprinkled him with
his eau de cologne; a third touched the tip