and I don't wish him to be buried without an
examination, because I bullied him mildly
only a short time previous to his going out.
You will manage that for me, old boy, won't
you?"

"Oh, yes!"

"He died of old age, and his last grievance;
but still I should like a medical man's certificate;
just to satisfy the colonel, who served
with him in Lord Lake's time, you know, and
all that sort of thing."

"I can manage all that for you," replied
the official, riding by the side of the buggy;
"but push on, for the sun is becoming rather
oppressive, and I have no hood to my saddle,
remember."

My host and hostess made me as comfortable
and as happy as any traveller could
wish to be made. Of the former I saw little
or nothing from eleven in the morning till
three or four in the evening, for he was what
is called a conscientious officer, and attended
strictly to his work. During these hours I
used to read, or pay a visit to the mess-rooms
of a regiment where a billiard-table was
kept. To the officers of the regiment I was
introduced by Lieutenant Sixtie, previous to
his return to his own corps. He stayed eight
days in Agra—upon some plea or other—and
sent his company on in advance of him.

Agra—that is to say, the society of Agra—
was at the time split into two sections, the
civil and the military. They were not
exactly at open war; but there was a
coolness existing between the two branches.
They did not invite each other, and very very
seldom exchanged calls. For me, who was
desirous of seeing all parties, this was rather
awkward; living, as I was, in the house of
a civilian. So I resolved upon taking a
small bungalow for a short period, and
furnishing it in a mild and inexpensive manner.
I was candid enough to confess to my host
that, as I was in no way connected with
either branch of the service, I was anxious
to avoid taking any part in their local differences;
and he had the good sense, not to
press me to remain under his roof.

A few days after I had located myself in
my bungalow, I received a call from a native
gentleman, a Seik chieftain, who was, and
now is, a state prisoner on a handsome
stipend. He drove up to my door in a small
phaeton, drawn by a pair of large black mules
of incredible swiftness and agility. This
fallen chieftain—a tall and powerfully built
man—was no other than the renowned Rajah
Lall Singh, who commanded the Seik cavalry
at the battle of Ferozeshah, and who was
subsequently Prime Minister at Lahore,
during a portion of the time that the British
Government undertook the administration of
the Punjab on behalf of Mahrajah Dulleep
Singh. Lall Singh was now studying
surgery. More than one medical officer in
charge of the hospitals which he attended,
informed me that the Rajah was already a
comparatively skilful operator, and could
take off an arm or a leg with surprising
dexterity. Notwithstanding his previous
character—that of a sensualist and faithless
intriguer: one, indeed, who had not been
constant even to his own villainies—I could
not help liking his conversation; which was
humorously enlivened with imitations of
English officers with whom he had come in
contact and was entertaining to the last degree.
His anecdotes, relating to the late Runjeet
Singh, were peculiarly interesting; coming
as they did from the lips of a man who had
been so much in the company of that
remarkable monarch, who in many respects
resembled Napoleon the First, especially in
the selection of the instruments of his power.
"All his" (Runjeet's) "chief men," said the
Rajah, "were persons of obscure origin: Tej
Singh, Sawan Mull, Deenanauth, and the
rest of them."

"But you were an exception?" said I.

"Indeed not," was his reply. "I began
life as a muleteer, and hence my partiality
for mules, perhaps."

After a while the Rajah invited me to take
a drive with him to a house about two miles
in the country, and situated on the banks of
the Jumna. It was not his own house, which
was then under repair, he said, but had been
placed at his disposal by a friend. I thanked
the Rajah, and stepped into his carriage; he
followed me, seized the reins, shook the whip,
and away we went at the rate of sixteen
miles an hour.

The garden-house, at which we soon
arrived, was a spacious building of European
architecture. It had formerly belonged to a
general officer who had married a native
woman of considerable wealth. The furniture
was all of European make, and was
arranged very much in the same manner as
that in the Sahib Logue's apartments at
Bhitoor. In point of quality it was also very
much the same,—a portion costly, and the
rest of a common description. This house,
too, was constantly inhabited by English folks
who sought a change of air for a few days.
Since his removal to Agra, Lall Singh lived
more like an European than a native, and
had got into the habit of sitting at ease in a
chair, instead of cross-legged, like a tailor, on
the carpet. His dress was of the simplest
and most unpretending character imaginable;
and, with the exception of a signet-ring on
his forefinger, he had no ornament on his
person. The table of the apartment to
which he conducted me was literally covered
with surgical instruments,—saws, knives,
scalpels of every size and shape. Amongst
them I perceived a pair of swords, in wooden
scabbards covered with rich green velvet,
and ornamented with gold and precious
stones. Observing that my eyes rested on
these swords, he took one up, and remarked,
"These have performed some curious
operations in their time; but never in an