and arched roof. Across this roof was a thick and carved beam of wood, with a hole in its centre, and a hook, such as is used for hanging people. Below and directly under this hole in the beam, and in the centre of the vault, was a grave; this grave he opened, and found the bangles (ornaments for the arms) of a woman. Such is the place I have just visited. My blood ran cold as I descended the steps, the torches burning dimly from the foulness of the air, and I thought of the poor creatures who might have entered these dismal passages, never to revisit the light of day. I crept from the passage through the hole which had been opened in the thick wall, and stood on the ransacked grave, or perhaps graves of secret murder. Close to this vault is another of similar appearance; the thickness of the wall has baffled the patience of some person who has attempted to cut through it; however, the officers who were with me this evening say they will open it, as well as a place which they suppose leads to passages under the city. An old sergeant who has been here thirty years, says he once went through those passages, but the entrance has subsequently been bricked up, and he cannot discover it: the place which it is supposed is the blocked-up entrance, through which he passed, will, they say, be opened to-morrow. Having seen this spot of secret murder and burial, I can believe any of the horrible histories recorded in the annals of the padshahs: only imagine the entrance having been blocked up by a wall eight feet in thickness!
Quitting the Fort, we drove to the Tāj: the moon was at the full, adding beauty to the beautiful; the Tāj looked like fairy frost-work, yet so stately and majestic. And this superb building—this wonder of the world—is the grave of a woman, whilst only a short distance from it, is the vault of secret murder,—the grave also of a woman! What a contrast! How different the destiny of those two beings! The grave of the unknown and murdered one only just discovered amidst the dismal subterraneous passages in the Fort: the grave of the other bright and pure and beautiful in the calm moonlight. The damp, unwholesome air of the vaults is still in my throat; we
