by taking so long a walk in the heat of the
day."

We mounted the horses, and were soon at
the spot indicated by the sowars. There were
not so many as had been represented; but I
am speaking very far within bounds when I
state that there could not have been fewer
than eight thousand, and some of them of
an enormous size. I could scarcely have
believed that there were so many monkeys in
the world if I had not visited Benares, and
heard of the tribes at Gibraltar. Their sticks,
which were thrown together in a heap,
formed a very large stack of wood.

"What is this? " my friend said to one of
the Brahmins; for since his appointment he
had never heard of this gathering of apes.

"It is a festival of theirs, Sahib," was the
reply. "Just as Hindoos, at stated times,
go to Hurdwar, Hagipore, and other places,
so do these monkeys come to this holy
place."

"And how long do they stay?"

"Two or three days; then, they go away
to their homes in different parts of the
country; then, attend to their business for
four or five years; then, come again and do
festival, and so on, sir, to the end of all time.
You see that very tall monkey there, with
two smaller ones on either side of him?"

"Yes."

"Well, sir, that is a very old monkey. His
age is more than twenty years, I think. I
first saw him fifteen years ago. He was then
fall-grown. His native place is Meerut. He
lives with the Brahmins at the Soorj Khan,
near Meerut. The smaller ones are his sons,
sir. They have never been here before; and
you see he is showing them all about the
place, like a very good father."

Having seen enough of these " sacred
animals," we returned to the bungalow;
we were only just in time, for the lady was
about to depart, albeit the sun was very
high in the heavens, and the day, for the time
of year, extremely hot. We caught sight
of her in the verandah. My friend became
deadly pale, and exclaimed: " Is it
possible?"

"What?" I asked him.

"I will tell you on our way home. I must
see her—speak to her—painful as our meeting
must be. Only fancy, if that cloak should be
hers!"

The lady, who must have learnt from the
servants at the bungalow the name of my
friend, the official, evidently desired to avoid
an interview with him; for, upon our approach,
she retired from the palanquin, which she
was arranging, and entered, hastily, the room
she had occupied. We (my friend and myself)
went into the other room of the bungalow,
which happened to be vacant. Presently we
heard the voice of the ayah. She was very
angry, and was accusing the servants of the
bungalow of being thieves. She had now,
for the first time since they were lost, missed
several articles, and amongst them the cloak
of her mistress. She was perfectly ready to
swear that she had seen them all since their
arrival at the bungalow; that she had
removed them from the palkees with her own
hands; and if the servants had not stolen
them, who had?—who could have done so?
Distinctly did we hear the lady command the
ayah to be silent—to say nothing of the loss,
and enter her palanquin; but the ayah, too
much enraged to hear or to heed the command,
repeated her accusation; whereupon
the servants, in a body, rushed into the
apartment in which we were standing, listening,
and after protesting their perfect innocence
of the theft, referred to the character
for honesty which every one of them had
borne for many years. Strange to say,
frequent as are the opportunities which the
servants at these bungalows have of pilfering
from travellers, they rarely or never avail
themselves of such opportunities; and, whenever
it has happened that a lady or gentleman
has died in one of them, the money and effects
have always been forthcoming, with nothing
whatever missing.

The lady now forced the ayah to depart,
and enter her palanquin, in which the little
boy was sitting; she was about to follow,
when my friend rushed into the verandah,
and, seizing her by the hand, detained her.
She was as agitated as he was: and quite as
pale. He held her hand in his, with a firm,
but withal, a gentle grasp, and looked into
her face, which must have been beautiful
when she was a few years younger. As it was,
she had still a charming profile and countenance,
and a skin as white as snow. From
the window, or rather, looking through the
Venetians, I beheld the scene, which
reminded me of that exquisite picture of Mr.
Frank Stone—The Last Appeal. There was a
look of agony and despair in the face of the
man; while the woman, who appeared to
sympathise with his sufferings, did not, for
awhile, raise her eyes from the ground. But
at length she did so, and, looking mournfully
into my friend's face for a few seconds, burst
into tears, and presently her head, involuntarily
as it were, rested on his shoulder.
Suddenly recollecting herself, she again
attempted to take her departure; but my
friend now grown desperate, seemingly,
placed her arm beneath his. and walked
with her to a clump of shade-giving mango-
trees, in front of the bungalow, and there
they held a conversation which lasted some
ten minutes. The lady then tore herself away
from my friend, and after bidding him farewell,
she threw herself into her palanquin,
which was speedily lifted by the bearers, and
borne away, followed by the two sowars,
who were commanded to escort the fair
traveller to the next station. My friend,
from the verandah of the bungalow, watched
the procession till it was out of sight, and
then, seating himself on the steps, covered