The deed of violence which forms the basis of this narrative took place at Tollicherry, or rather in that district. How it was that my brother came to be stationed there will appear in due course. We left him at Bangalore, from whence he marched with his regiment to Secunderabad. He had not been there many months when an order was received directing the regiment to proceed with all possible speed to Scinde, where troops were urgently required. Some weeks before the order in question reached Secunderabad, my brother, finding that the climate of the Deccan did not agree with him, had applied for and obtained medical charge of the Zillah of Tollicherry; but as soon as he heard there was a chance of being engaged in active service, he had applied for permission to throw up the Zillah and to proceed with his regiment, and this was granted. He had, consequently, marched with the regiment from Secunderabad to Doolia, a distance of 600 miles, on the road for Scinde. The men had shown the best spirit, urged by their officers to do their utmost, and knowing that they were going to serve under Sir Charles Napier. They had accomplished the distance in an incredibly short period, but all their exertions, as it turned out, were of no avail. Sir Charles had fought his grand battle of Miani, and the regiment was no longer wanted. With this chilling news came the order to halt and to divide. One wing was to remain at Doolia, the other to proceed to Assurghur. There never was such a melancholy change among officers and men as that produced by this order. Previous to its receipt there was not an officer or man on sick report; all were in the highest spirits, and, in spite of fatigue, earnest to get on, lively, cheerful, and happy. In a few hours there was neither a happy face nor a cheerful voice to be seen or heard. Disappointment, vexation, and dejection were on every countenance. In a few days half the regiment was in hospital, and nearly half the officers on sick report. My poor brother had a sad time of it; besides his own share of vexation and disappointment, he was worked off his legs. Now he renewed his application for the Zillah of Tollicherry, which, in consideration of the proper feeling he had displayed, was again bestowed on him. To reach this station, from the place where he then was (Doolia), he had to travel 200 miles to Bombay, and from thence to proceed by sea to Tollicherry, a distance of about 800 miles. At that time the south-west monsoon was close at hand, and my brother, consequently, found it very difficult to procure a vessel that would undertake the voyage. At last, by paying double hire, he chartered a Satamar (called by the natives a Fatty mary), the owners and the serang engaging to take the risk, which in the sequel proved to be so fearful that it seems a miracle how ship or crew ever lived through it. On the day that my brother set sail from Bombay the sky was, after mid-day, more or less overcast; towards the evening the sun appeared through the dense atmosphere to be almost of a blood-red hue, and the edges of the clouds of a deep copper colour. A little later the sun became to a great extent obscured and hidden by a mass of clouds, so Sea and sky were wrapped in total darkness, when not illumined by the zigzag lines of lightning. The wind now increased, and the sea became dangerously rough and angry. Had the wind gone on increasing, bark and crew must have perished; but mercifully, it did not, its low muttering, moaning, or occasional whistling note was heard at intervals; still it never blew hard and furious as it threatened to do. The darkness, the downpour of rain, the lightning and the thunder, continued, while now and then a sea, and constantly the spray, swept over the vessel; for though the wind did not increase, the sea had been so raised, and the waves had become so threatening, that during two hours, while the worst of the storm lasted, my brother expected every moment that some overwhelming sea would whirl the unhappy Satamar into the depths below. The storm had commenced a little after the sun had gone down, and darkness had covered everything; then the furious rain descending in sheets of water, with lightning streams and deafening thunder, had continued at short intervals for three hours, and the sea had got up. Everything depended on the increase of the wind, and for two hours more there was nothing less than the prospect of instant death present to the minds of all on board. Shortly after midnight the violence of the storm began to abate; the wind, instead of increasing gradually, subsided; the rain was less like a deluge; the flashes and streams of lightning were less frequent and less vivid; the crashes of thunder less sharp, and evidently more distant; but the sea did not go down. Nevertheless the magnitude and the violence of the masses of water that rose and fell were less appalling and less frequent. It was now about half-past two, and there was an interval in the fall of rain (the first that had occurred). The sea no longer came sweeping over the deck, though the spray still kept everything wet, but the worst was over, and my brother had lain down to sleep. He was awakened by the serang with a native compass in his hand, followed by a sailor who was holding up a lantern to enable my brother to see the card. The vessel had been running down the coast, not very far from shore; but now a new peril presented itself. The darkness was less complete, and was rapidly becoming less and less; this change enabled the natives to perceive something white not far ahead; they knew at once that it was the foam of breakers caused by a reef of rocks, on which if they kept their course they would certainly strike. They could not sail towards the land, as the coast is rock-bound almost everywhere, and they dreaded pointing the head of the ship out to the broad ocean. It is ever the custom with native mariners to hug the land, so in their distress, and Two hours had scarcely elapsed before he was again awakened by the serang with the compass in his hand. It was now light enough to see everything with perfect ease. The sea all round was comparatively calm, but the land was not to be seen. This it was that had again excited the fears of the crew, and had led them to appeal again to the European. On learning the cause of their fear, my brother directed them to put about and steer towards the land; they again obeyed, and again he went to sleep. At about half-past six a.m. he was awakened by sounds of rejoicing and singing, which he soon found arose from their sense of security, thankfulness, and gratification, at having again caught sight of the land. The sun was shining with power renewed, and everything was dazzlingly bright; even the light reflected from the sea was too much for the eye. The serang, however, soon rigged up a double awning which kept a part of the deck in shadow. This permitted my brother to take his breakfast comfortably. About midday they made the port of Goa, where he landed, but stayed there only to dine. In a couple of hours they were again at sea, and in two days more anchored at Tollicherry. As soon as his trunks were landed, my brother made the serang happy by a present of 5 Rs., and the sailors equally On perusing this note, my brother jumped into his palankeen, which the Judge's bearers shouldered at once, and almost ran with it to the Judge's house, anxious to be the first to tell him that they had brought the new 'hakim saib.' On getting out of the palkee, my brother found Mr. V. waiting in the hall to welcome his guests. His first remark was, while extending his hand to my brother: 'But where's Mrs. ——?' The story of the going on active service, as it was supposed, and the impossibility under such circumstances of taking his wife with him, had then to be told. Mr. V. listened to the explanation, and then said: 'But where is she? Have you left her at Secunderabad all this time?' 'No,' replied my brother, 'she and the children have been staying at Anot, where her brother (in medical charge of the 5th Cavalry) is stationed.' 'And when do you expect them here?' continued the Judge. 'Why,' returned my brother, 'that depends, I believe, on the safe accomplishment of a certain trouble that married people are Mr. V. was not only a thorough gentleman in manner and exterior, but truly so in feeling; no one could be more unmindful of self, or more disposed to make everyone forget that he occupied the first position in the district. Frank, sociable, generous, and hospitable, as well as lively and good-humoured, he was a noble specimen of an Englishman, and a typical example of the best kind of the old Indian burra saib, a class that even in those days was fast disappearing, and cannot, I believe, now be found. My brother stayed with this kind and generous man during more than two months, and then he only succeeded in effecting his departure on the plea that he must prepare his house for the advent of his wife. While Mr. V.'s guest, my brother made the acquaintance of all the European residents at the station, paying and receiving the customary visits, all which matters of form my brother heartily detested: but the Medes and Persians of old were not more rigid in their laws than Anglo-Indians are in the matter of paying and returning visits. My brother, therefore, obeyed the lex non scripta with as little delay as possible. He first made his bow to Mrs. A., the wife of the second Circuit Judge, a lady of whom it was whispered that she wore certain portions of costume generally considered to be propria quÆ maribus. However this may have been, her husband, Mr. A., was a most kind and excellent man. Mrs. H., the wife of the third Judge, with her husband, both became valued friends. Both are doubtless gone to the 'better land,' therefore it would not be kind or wise to grieve for them. Next to the Circuit Judges comes the Zillah Judge, who It is now time to speak of Mr. G., the sub-collector, who was as unlike Mr. H., the Zillah Judge, as it is possible for one man to be unlike another. Mr. G., to begin with, had no wife to save him the trouble of thinking on important matters, and was as good-humoured, jolly, and generous, as the other was melancholy and penurious. He was, moreover, as fond of fun as the other was fearful of it. H., in short, was a killjoy, and G. was a lovejoy. The consequence of these differences was that H. was not, generally speaking, a particular favourite, and G. was. The list of officials closes, I think, with the Master-Attendant, or Bunder-Major, as he was popularly termed. This old gentleman had been captain of a merchant vessel, and was therefore, by courtesy, always called Captain B. He was a red-faced, jolly-looking old tar, really good-natured and kind-hearted, but one who murdered his mother tongue at Those not belonging to the list of officials may very soon be disposed of. Old Mr. B., a retired civilian, and his son, Henry, occupy the first place. The father was a jolly old bon-vivant, and had in his younger days, so it was said, been somewhat gay, if the word be accepted not in its literal sense, but in that in which it is usually employed in polite society. His son was a chip of the old block, and a bit of a scamp into the bargain. Mr. G., the German missionary, concludes the catalogue. This individual was in high favour with Mrs. A. and her husband, and with Mrs. H. and her husband. The catalogue of European residents being concluded, it remains to notice the Eurasians, the greater number of whom were descendants of Portuguese and natives. Most of these were mean, degraded, lazy individuals forming a section of the population not very much respected. Some, no doubt, were respectable persons, acting either as writers (clerks), or tradesmen, tailors, carpenters, etc. There were some few of the Eurasian class descended from Englishmen and native women, who were also employed as writers in the Circuit Court. One of these, a Mr. James, occasioned considerable amusement, both to the First Judge and to my brother, by presenting to the former a petition for a fortnight's leave of Mr. James, thus urged, smiling more than ever and looking more sheepish than ever, confessed that he wanted leave to get married. 'To get married!' repeated Mr. V., with almost a scream of laughter; 'surely, Mr. James, you don't mean that?' 'I beg you'll pardon me, sir, my proposals have been accepted, and the day for the ceremony has been fixed.' 'The day has been fixed, has it?' said Mr. V., greatly amused; 'why, I should have thought, Mr. James, at your time of life you'd have given over all thought of As Mr. V. and my brother walked homewards they indulged themselves with various jocose remarks at the expense of the amoroso. 'The old idiot,' said my brother, For the sake of getting rid of Mr. James and his bride, though it anticipates the dÉnouement considerably, I will state now what happened five months after the date of the said Lucretia's marriage. At that time she presented a little Miss James to her husband, who blandly remarked, in reference to the occurrence: 'That it was an extraordinary instance of what does sometimes happen, and of the wonderful powers of nature.' Mr. G., who happened to be present when the news was reported, made a somewhat cynical remark, which my brother declares he could never quite understand, though, in illustration of his meaning, Mr. G. indulged in making sundry grotesque contortions of his features, and in applying the index finger of the right hand to the side of his nose; which departure from strict decorum must, my brother presumed, be set down to his love of fun, and keen appreciation of the ridiculous. This young person's career was what might have been imagined from its commencement, and more than fulfilled my brother's anticipations. The wretched old man died within a year from the date of the event I have recorded. Let us now pass from the consideration of the Eurasians to that of the native races to be found at Tollicherry. The Hindoos there located are called Nairs and Teers. They possess good features, and are well formed and proportioned. They seem to have the same usages as other Hindoos, the same kind of temples, the same division into castes, and the same reverence for Brahmins, snakes, and monkeys. The costume of these people, as far as relates to the men kind, does not differ much from that of the male Hindoos The dwellings of the Nair and Teer people are pretty to look at, as they all have a small piece of ground that is well cultivated. They grow cocoa-nut trees, and other palms, pepper, vines, and plantains; and those who possess a larger portion of land raise rice and other grains. The Mussulman population are not very numerous, and the greater number of these are shipowners and traders to the Persian Gulf, Arabia, and the Red Sea. They possess, many of them, considerable property, and inhabit large upstair houses which, according to native ideas, are very convenient and highly respectable, but unfortunately are not clean. The Bazaar men mostly inhabit huts like those to be found all over India. The dwellings of the Moplahs, a sort of cross breed sprung from Arabs and the natives of this coast, are like those of the Mussulmans, but inferior. For the due understanding of the tale I have to tell, it is necessary that I should describe the manners and customs of the Moplahs in detail. I shall, therefore, return to them by-and-by. At present it will be convenient to finish the enumeration of the native inhabitants. It would indeed be a poor sketch of the place that did not bestow some notice on the numerous pariah dogs that roam about during the day, or the jackals that do the same by night, making it hideous by their howling, and dangerous too, as they During the first year of his residence at Tollicherry, my brother reports that seven Sepoys died of this incurable malady. The number of villagers and country people who died of it in this time was unknown. The authorities did all they could to keep down the number—I might say the swarms—of pariah dogs. The sub-collector, in this respect a man of dogged determination, was very diligent in collecting tongues and tails: for every pair of which he paid an anah. This practice was resorted to every hot season, and continued for more than three months; so that the dog-days, in this part of the world, last longer it would seem than they do elsewhere. But jackals and dogs form only a small part of the native inhabitants of Tollicherry. My brother says, 'I do not include in my list domestic animals such as horses, oxen, buffaloes, goats, sheep, or even donkeys, which we all know are common enough everywhere; but those ugly and deadly things not met with everywhere. In all the backwaters, rivers, and marshes, there are numerous muggers, or alligators; and some of In the sea all along this coast sharks of all kinds abound; and on and in the land there are snakes, scorpions, and centipedes innumerable. Of the birds, my brother says little or nothing, as they did not to his eye differ much from those met with in other parts of the country. There were kites and crows, those invaluable scavengers, and many smaller birds which he did not notice. He concludes his list of native inhabitants with the monkeys, which were very numerous; differing much in size, shape, and colour. He describes a monkey standing about 3 feet high, and black all over, except the white ruff under his chin, as a very fine and handsome specimen of the race, and of a species differing from the rest of the quadrumana. By using this word species, I fear my brother has exposed himself to the wrath of the infallible Dr. Darwin, who, in his wonderful scheme of development by evolution, has stated that the quadrumana are our immediate progenitors. He has not, it is true, explained from which kind of monkey man is developed; nor how it happens that there are not as many kinds of men as there are of monkeys; or whether his friend 'Development' doubles up all the monkeys, great and small, black and brown, before she makes a man. All this, and much more, it is true he has not explained, but he has told us that our earliest ancestor or progenitor is an Ascidian (a cell), and that in a long course of ages, by the agency of his gossip 'Development,' the cell becomes this, With such superlative examples of grace and beauty as those constantly observed among the daughters of the three British Isles, and the almost irresistible power exercised by All this proves that the dominion of beauty is confined to no hemisphere, and specially serves to introduce the present narrative, which relates to a part of India which, of all others, from the debilitating nature of the climate, and the peculiar customs of the people we are to speak of, would seem to be the least likely to furnish a tale of love and passion. But however unlooked for or unexpected the usages or customs on which a story-teller founds his narrative may be, or however unusual the circumstances arising from them, he cannot be held responsible for the facts or their results, so long as it can be proved that the said usages and customs do really exist. In the present case the Moplah customs and usages referred to practically obtain over a considerable part of the western coast of India, i.e., from the country of Mangalore, and from some distance north of it, to Cochin, and some distance south of it. In short, these customs are known and followed wherever the race has spread. For the details of the murder committed by these Moplahs my brother's notes are clear and precise, and for the particulars respecting AminÈ after her return to her own country he declares that he gives the account as it was given to him by a Mussulman pilgrim, who, many years after the date of AminÈ's death, passed en route to Mecca through her native place. The Mussulman pilgrim was a merchant of Tollicherry, who, being naturally interested in her fate, from knowing how barbarously her husband had been murdered, collected all the information he could from those who had been about her. He had it written down, and on his return to India The Moplahs are, as aforesaid, a sort of cross-breed sprung from the seafaring Arab traders and the native women of the west coast. The children of these alliances settled on the coast with their mothers. Hence the Moplah race. They are men of large frame, and particularly strong and powerful. They are either cultivators of the soil, or merchants trading by sea. Some of the headmen among them are possessed of large estates, employ numbers of servants, and own numerous herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, and goats, with some horses and donkeys. Others possess Patamars and Dhonies. All cultivate the soil. Of this class of wealthy proprietors two individuals, at the time referred to, were generally regarded as chiefs or headmen. Both were almost equally wealthy, and equally looked up to by their neighbours. The younger of the two, although a Moplah, was a remarkably fine handsome man, retaining something (though not enough to spoil his good looks) of the Arab or Jewish cast of feature. He was of a disposition more frank and joyous than is usually met with among Arabs or Moplahs; his name was Lutchmon Sing. The other, called Saul Jan, was not so tall by four inches as his neighbour Lutchmon Sing, but he was larger in the body, broader in the shoulders, and was in all respects an amazingly powerful man. He exhibited the reserved, morose disposition characteristic of the race. Before the occurrences in which these two men were the principal actors are spoken of, it is necessary to notice, as briefly as possible, the peculiar customs of the race in reference to women. With respect to property, or in fact anything they happen to covet, the Moplahs entertain the most advanced notions, and, with regard to the other sex, Whence this highly modest and delicate custom has been derived my brother has been unable to ascertain. 'If,' says In illustration of the various amiable qualities of these Moplahs, my brother instances a case in which he had to give medical evidence. Early one morning the body, or more properly the mangled remains, of Lutchmon Sing, who has been already mentioned as one of the two principal headmen of the district, was brought to his door to be examined and reported on. He found that after the poor fellow had been knocked down and stunned by a blow on the head, proved by the smashing in of his cap, a severe It was a piteous sight. Here was a fine young fellow in the prime of life, who was a favourite with all the Europeans, and with most of his own countrymen, brutally murdered, without any apparent cause. And what made everyone sorrow the more was the fact that he had been recently married to a Persian lady, whom, after a devoted court and worship of more than two years, he had at last succeeded in winning, and had brought home and located beyond the Moplah bounds in a stronghold situated in the hill country, but at no great distance, his holding being within the Manantoddy district. It was evident that the division of the chief parts of the trunk had been effected by some sharp and powerful cutting instrument, most probably by one of those sharp toddy knives or bill-hooks which all jungle-men in India carry. The murder, it was supposed, had been perpetrated at the instigation of the rich Moplah named Saul Jan, whose lands were situated at no great distance from those of the murdered man, Lutchmon Sing. These two headmen, it was well known, had been at feud for a long time, ostensibly on account of some adjacent lands lying between their respective estates; but it was whispered that the murdered man's shoes had on one occasion (some two and a half years since) been found outside Saul Jan's door, and that he (Saul Jan), from circumstances to be hereafter explained, had not been able to return the visit. Be this as it may, the visitor's body was, after this occurrence, A Hercules of a fellow, named Kulmuck, with a most villainous expression of countenance, who was an outdoor or field servant to Saul Jan, was with some others brought up before the Zillah Judge on suspicion of being the actual murderer, or at least of being a principal concerned in it. Some parts of this man's cloth were stained with blood, as was the handle and broad blade of his toddy-knife; his right hand was also stained with blood, and the palmar surface of the index and second finger of the right hand were slightly torn. It would appear that, even before he had washed the blood stains from his hand, or knife, or cloth, he had gone to the hut of a fellow-servant, a constant companion, and had there indulged himself so largely in drinking arrack that when the peons found him he was almost insensible, unable to speak, or stand; and lucky for them that he was in this state, as otherwise his toddy-knife would probably have been so used as to have saved some of them all further worldly care. Even without a weapon of any kind, manacled and pinioned, the peons shrank from him, and actually seemed afraid to touch him, so well were his strength and ferocity known. When asked by the Zillah Judge how he accounted for the blood on his cloth, toddy-knife, and hand, he stated that, just before he had lain down in his comrade's hut, he had killed a shark, and had at the same time torn his hand. He further stated that parts of the shark would be found in his own hut, which was not more than a quarter of a mile distant from the one in which he had stayed to drink. Certain of the peons, who had been ordered to go to his hut, there found parts of a recently killed shark, which they brought into Court. The Judge asked the prisoner what took him away from his own hut, and for what purpose he The Judge and the whole Court were at fault. The case was adjourned, and the prisoner remanded. The cloth and the toddy-knife, and the blood washed off by my brother into a broad-mouthed stoppered vial, with distilled water, were all placed in a box, and locked by the Judge with his own hands; then a broad piece of tape was placed round it, having the Zillah Court seal affixed at either end of it. The Judge then publicly placed the key of the box in my brother's hands. Finally, a peon carried the box into his This he found very laborious, as the modes of examination were necessarily repeated for the stains on the cloth, the handle of the knife, the blade, and the blood washed off into the stoppered bottle. The last named he examined first, being fearful of those changes which in a tropical climate take place very rapidly, and so greatly alter and distort the appearance of the blood globules. By his celerity he prevented any such change, and thus obtained capital specimens, which dried on the slides, and were available for evidence in Court. To return to the Court. The things to be examined, having, as aforesaid, been consigned (under seal) to my brother's charge, and the prisoner having been placed in strong quarters, under ward changed every eight hours, while the Judge and his subordinates are seeking for further evidence, let us look into the history of the feud that, it is not denied, did exist between Lutchmon Sing and Saul Jan. This, it was said, arose from the rival claims of the parties to some lands situate between their respective holdings: their claims had been before the Court on several occasions, and had passed from the Zillah to the Higher Court. The case was supposed to be in train for decision, but scarcely for settlement, as it was known that both litigants were resolved to appeal to the Supreme Court. Thus the litigation might last for years. All this was publicly known, and it would satisfactorily account for the feud and the ill-feeling, but not for the murder; even Moplahs do not usually murder because they are legal opponents. The acknowledged feud was, therefore, regarded as insufficient to account for the extreme measure resorted to, and as a natural consequence suspicion took possession of the minds But why had he taken all these precautions and spent so much money, and why had he taken his stand so far beyond the Moplah country? This proceeding was considered by the Moplahs, one and all, as an outrage; an insult to the men, and a crime of the deepest dye, as opposed to the recognised custom, for which nothing less than death could be awarded as sufficient punishment. Several Moplah men stated these opinions unreservedly in open Court; though all positively denied having administered the punishment, or having been instigators or accessories to it. After long-continued denials and evasions, and a most ingeniously On inquiry from the old men about the Court who had been longest on that coast, and who best understood the Moplah modes of reasoning and feeling, it appeared that the rage of Saul Jan was excited by the knowledge that Lutchmon Sing had married, but had kept his wife beyond Moplah bounds, and had, moreover, so secured her that no one could gain access to her dwelling; and therefore Saul Jan considered that he had been defrauded of his rights in being denied access to the wife of Lutchmon Sing, after that Kafir (as Saul Jan expressed it) had made his (Saul Jan's) wife his servant. In vain it was pointed out that as Lutchmon Sing's wife had come from beyond sea, she could not be a Moplah, and would not, therefore, be willing to submit to Moplah customs; this, and other such arguments intended to bring the savage to a more reasonable state of mind, only served These exhibitions of fury and desire for revenge on account of a supposed injury not only showed that there was a sufficient cause to account for such a deed of violence, but pointed to the man who had committed or instigated it, and strongly confirmed the suspicions generally entertained. Still, there was nothing that could be regarded as legal proof. To confine the man, and look for further evidence, was all that could be done. Evidence came somewhat unexpectedly to disprove part of Kulmuck's statement, but nothing positive to connect either him or his master with the murder. The evidence alluded to was my brother's report of his examination of cloth, knife, and blood washed off his hand. Each of these had been carefully examined chemically. Albumen, fibrin, and iron were shown to be present. Thus the chemical tests agreed with and confirmed the evidence afforded by the sensible tests—i.e., the sight, the odour, and the taste. These were decisive as to the presence of blood. But what blood? This was the question. Fortunately my brother possessed a good Smith and Beck microscope, and by means of the micrometer he adjusted precisely the magnifying power he employed. Then placing on a thin slide a minute portion of the matter stated to be shark's blood, the rolls of circular discs like those of human blood were evident; their diameter was also like that of human blood. Still, as the blood discs of some other animals resemble those of human blood very closely, it was scarcely safe to pronounce absolutely that the stains and clots were those of human blood. My brother simply stated their close resemblance to those of human blood, while at the same time he pronounced absolutely that they were not those of shark's blood. When this report had been read, The breathless anxiety and curiosity of the natives—I may say of everyone in Court—to see the microscopic experiment, can scarcely be described. The great majority of the natives looked on the whole thing as a kind of jadoo, or performance of magic; still, their curiosity was extreme. As soon as my brother had found the right focus of the instrument, he pulled out one of the hairs of his head, and placed it on a slide in the feet of the instrument, and then made the Sheristadar and one or two other natives in the Court observe it. Having thus convinced them of the power of the apparatus, and excited their wonder, he placed with the point of a needle on another slide a very minute portion of shark's blood. This, when sufficiently attenuated, showed the form and shape of the blood globules distinctly. My brother then requested the Judge to look at them. He did so, and was much gratified at Before my brother left the Court, while talking with Mr. H., he asked him if he had examined the lady who, after all, seemed to be the cause of this crime. He said he had not done so for several reasons. It was, in the first place, unusual, and repugnant to the feelings of the natives, to bring native ladies into a court of justice; and, secondly, her dwelling was out of his district. 'Nevertheless,' returned my brother, 'in a case of such importance, I would overrule the native prejudices.' 'I will think it over,' said the Judge; and then they parted. The next day the Zillah Judge drove over to the Circuit Judge's house, and asked his opinion regarding the best course to be adopted towards 'Upon my word,' observed Mr. V., 'your informant has painted a most enchanting picture. I feel quite envious and grieved that I'm not the Zillah Judge. You cannot surely drag such a superlative creature into Court; you will have to take your Court to her. Pray don't do it personally, or perhaps Mrs. H. might not be pleased; but under any circumstances you must write officially to have our permission in this case of difficulty, and I am sure A. and H. will concur with me in the precept for you to proceed to her house or castle, and to take down her deposition, if she has anything to state.' Mr. H. accordingly sent in the official letter asking the opinion of the Circuit Judges, which was unanimous, and found expression in a precept directing Mr. H. to proceed to the lady's house with as little delay as possible. On receipt of the precept Mr. H. sent a mounted peon with a letter to the widow of Lutchmon Sing, asking politely if it would be convenient for her to make such statements as the ends of justice demanded, or, if she had no statement to make, to answer such questions as it might be needful to The next forenoon, about 10 a.m., Mr. H. and his subordinates, who had left Tollicherry by 7 p.m. the evening previous, reached the lady's house. They found a sumptuous breakfast prepared for them, both in the European and native fashion, while the lady's butler attended to wait on them with a dozen servants. Before the Judge sat down to table, a female servant presented him with another note, begging him to excuse her absence until the business of the Court called for it, her sorrow and the Eastern customs being, she hoped, sufficient to extenuate any apparent want of hospitality. She added that she had given strict orders to her butler, and to all her people, to supply anything and everything that might be called for. When the Judge had finished breakfast, and his subordinates had done ample honour to an excellent collation of curries, pillaus, etc., etc., Mr. H. was shown into a large apartment or hall, with a paved courtyard and fountain which fell into a small tank or basin. The whole space was well covered in, so that the sunbeams could not directly penetrate, while open verandas all round gave abundance of light. In this courtyard Mr. H. established his Court, and here, shortly after he had announced that he was prepared, the lovely A day or two after these men had departed, her husband had returned, and she had informed him of all that had happened in his absence. 'He knew at once who it was that had attacked his house; he also told me the object of it, and of the vile and singular customs obtaining amongst his countrymen. I became dreadfully alarmed, and entreated him not to go about alone. I foresaw what would be likely to happen, and told him that such a desperate and determined ruffian as this man, whom he called Saul Jan, would have him murdered, if he were not himself the murderer.' The lady's statements were carefully taken down, and signed by herself and the Judge; then several of the servants of the house were examined, and their testimony confirmed that of the lady. They also said that they should know the leader of the band—the man who had used the threats and the bad language—if they saw him again. This evidence was also taken down and signed and countersigned. Mr. H. prepared to then take his departure. After many compliments, thanking the bereaved wife not merely for her kindness and hospitality to himself and whole Court, but for the clear and collected manner in which she had given her testimony, he declared that under such painful conditions her conduct was truly admirable. As he made his bow before getting into his palankeen he said: 'It is a pity that your husband did not take your advice.' AminÈ, now that the examination was over, had for a time yielded to her sorrow: her head was bowed upon her bosom, her tears were falling fast, and her women were doing what they could to soothe and console her; but when she heard Mr. H.'s remark, she stood up at once, and The reader may perhaps wish to know what eventually became of this beautiful and unhappy lady. Her husband on his marriage had made her heir, in case of his death, of all he possessed. As soon as she could obtain purchasers for her lands and tenements, and various kinds of property, she returned to Persia. From the time of her husband's murder, up to the time of her departure for her own country, she never either saw or spoke to any one of the numerous suitors who endeavoured in every possible way to pay court and worship to her. After her return to Persia, she so arranged her worldly possessions as to leave herself but a third part of her income; the larger she expended in charities to the sick and poor, whom she visited daily. A certain portion of her means she expended in building a handsome tomb, standing in an extensive garden of roses and other sweet-smelling flowers. By means of reservoirs and basins, fountains were always throwing water; and by means of marble conduits for irrigation, and a score of gardeners, everything was preserved in the most perfect order. Before she quitted Tollicherry, she had obtained We now return to Tollicherry, where Saul Jan and Kulmuck lie under sentence of death. After the identification of Saul Jan as the leader of the attacks on the distant house of Lutchmon Sing, the circumstantial evidence was so strong, and so completely confirmatory of the previous suspicions, that it may be said no one entertained the slightest moral doubt as to the guilt of these two men. Still, the one link in the evidence was wanting; the perpetration of the murder was not actually brought home to these ruffians. This evidence was obtained in rather a singular and unlooked-for way. One day, about 3 p.m., just after my brother had dined, he was called into his veranda to attend to a low-caste Moplah man, who, in consequence of drinking, had fallen from a toddy-tree, and had smashed the upper arm close up to the joint. The destruction of the soft parts, and the splintering of the bone, were so terrible that there could be no chance of saving the man's life unless the limb was removed at the shoulder-joint. This was clear; but how was it to be done? The practised operators at our hospitals in England have trained and skilful assistants to control a large vessel or take up a smaller one, or render aid in any way that can be wanted. My brother had no one to assist him except a poor half caste Portuguese, who had never seen an operation in his life. He was willing, but could do no more than steady or support the crushed arm or hand as occasion required. This being so, and the man having in a great measure been sobered by the fright and the fall, and his nervous system not having suffered as much as might have been expected, my brother determined to operate at once. In order to secure the main artery (the brachial), my brother first passed a curved needle, armed with strong silk thread, from the anterior part of the wound close to that portion of the splintered bone near to the socket, and My brother kept the man in his own house for about a fortnight, and was very kind to him. The rude creature felt this, and knew that my brother had saved his life; so, before he was discharged, he asked to speak with him privately. My brother turned the servants out of the room, and then told him to speak freely. 'Nay, Saib; master has kept my life for me this time; but if I tell master, will master save me again?' At first my brother thought the man wanted to beg something, and it was some time before he found out that his patient was really afraid to say what he desired, unless protection could be assured to him. He repeatedly said: 'Master no take care, those people kill me.' 'Nonsense,' said my brother, 'what are you afraid of? Those people, who are those people?' 'My people, the Moplah people.' A ray of light at once shot across my brother's mind. 'Then,' said he, 'you have something to tell me about Lutchmon Sing's murder?' The man nodded his head, but did not speak. 'What, Timbuckjee, you don't mean, I hope, that you had anything to do with that!' 'No, Saib, nothing at all; but I see something.' 'You see something! what do you mean? let me hear.' 'No, Saib, master never tell keep my life, how can I tell master?' 'I can't keep your life, but the Judge can if you give evidence that will enable him to punish these bad men.' 'Nay, Saib, master promise, then I tell Master Judge. I not know him; he perhaps no remember.' 'Well, Timbuckjee, I will see the Judge and get his promise, or I will try to get it.' 'Master Judge give promise in writing, then he no forget. He give word promise he perhaps no remember.' My brother could not help smiling at the caution and cunning of Mr. Timbuckjee; but as the matter was of such importance he wrote a note at once to Mr. H., stating that he had reason to believe that the man who had fallen from the toddy-tree, and had so crushed his arm, could say something that would enable him to convict the murderers of Lutchmon Sing; but that the man was in such fear of the Moplah people that he refused to speak unless he, the Judge, would grant him a written promise to protect him. After some delay Mr. H. went to my brother's house and saw Timbuckjee. But he seemed little inclined to make any statement of any value, till a native vakeel was sent for, who, after a great deal of trouble, at last made him At last Mr. H. said: 'If I give you a belt, and make you one of the Zillah Court peons, will that content you?' 'Yes, Saib, that will keep my life. You give me belt, and make me peon of your Court; they never kill me. Yes, I will tell.' He then went on to say, that on the very day Lutchmon Sing was killed, he, Timbuckjee, was following his business tapping palms, for which purpose he had climbed up a lofty tree, and was engaged fastening an empty chatty to the part which he had incised. When he had finished his work he was about to descend, but he did not do so, having observed two men at some little distance off, standing at the foot of another lofty palm, engaged in earnest conversation. He soon recognised the men in question to be Saul Jan and Kulmuck. Concealed as he was by the leaves and branches, and remaining perfectly still, he himself remained wholly unobserved, while he had a full opportunity of watching all that passed between the men named. He was not near enough to hear anything, but judging from their behaviour it seemed to him that Saul Jan was urging Kulmuck to accede to some proposition that had previously been made to him, but to which he steadily refused to consent. At last he seemed to yield, and then he held out his hand, into which Saul Jan counted 20 Rs.; these Kulmuck tied up, after again counting them, in a corner of his cloth, and then parted from Saul Jan, who took the way to his own house, while Kulmuck also went to his hut, where he remained about half an hour; then he left it and returned to the jungle. Timbuckjee did not dare to follow Kulmuck too nearly lest he should be discovered, but he kept him in sight till he entered the path that led to Lutchmon Sing's dwelling. There he lost sight of him. In about an hour he again saw Kulmuck, running This statement, having been sworn to after the Moplah fashion, was taken down, and Timbuckjee made to vouch for its truth by affixing his mark to it. The Judge then countersigned it. Now as no money had been found on Kulmuck's person when he was captured, it was clear that he must have deposited it somewhere else, and if Timbuckjee's story was true, he had been nowhere, after having received the blood-money from Saul Jan, but to his own hut; consequently, then, the rupees should be found there. To Kulmuck's hut therefore at once went the Judge, my brother, several subordinates of the Court, a posse of peons, and some coolies with mattocks and picks. The whole floor of the hut was examined without discovering any sign of earth having been recently turned up; nevertheless it was dug up all over without avail. The whole of the compound was then treated in the same way, still without finding anything: doubt was beginning to attach to Timbuckjee's statement, when someone said: 'Try the roof.' In less than two minutes afterwards there was a shout, and one of the peons drew forth from the thatch a piece of rag evidently containing rupees. The little parcel was immediately handed to the Judge, who opened it before all present, and counted out the number of rupees which Timbuckjee had seen Saul Jan count out to Kulmuck. This discovery proved the truth of all that Timbuckjee had said, and at the same time proved the guilt of Saul Jan and Kulmuck. I am glad to say that both these ruffians were sentenced to be hanged. Great efforts to save Saul Jan were made by the Moplahs, who declared that he had been defrauded of his undoubted rights, and that Lutchmon |