fires had just been lighted underneath the troopers' cook-pots when there came a sort of ominous murmur from the roadway which wound past the woodland toward the river and the burning-ghats beyond. Little flickers of the flame that was about to burst into a holocaust next year were already beginning to show, and my uncle thought it best to take no chances; so he sent a file of troopers with a subadar to see what it was all about. In ten or fifteen minutes they came back, swearing such oaths as only Afghan Mussulmans can use when speaking of despised Hindoos.
"'Wah, it is a burning, Captain Sahib,' the subadar reported. 'The Infidels—may Allah make their faces black!—drag forth a widow to be burnt upon her husband's funeral pyre.'
"Now the British Raj forbade suttee in 1829, and made those taking any part in it accessories to murder. Technically, therefore, my uncle's duty was to stop the show, but he had but twenty sowars in his detail, and the Hindoos probably would number hundreds. He was, as you Americans say, in a decided spot. If he interfered with the religious rite, even though the law forbade it, he'd have a first-class riot on his hands, and probably lose half of his command, if the whole detail weren't massacred. Besides, his orders were to scout and bring reports in to the Residency, and he'd not be able to perform his mission if he lost too many men, or was killed in putting down a riot. On the other hand, here was a crime in process of commission under his immediate observation, and his duty was to stop it, so"
"Morbleu, one understands!" de Gran- din chuckled. "He was, as one might say, between the devil and the ocean. What did he do, this amiable ancestor of yours, Monsieur? One moment, if you please" he raised his hand to shut off Pemberton's reply. "I make the wager with myself. I bet me twenty francs I know the answer to his conduct ere you tell it. Bon, the wager is recorded. Now, if you please, proceed."
A boyish grin was on the Briton's face as he replied: "It was a tight fix to be in, but I think the old boy used his head, at that. First of all, he bundled his dispatches in a packet and told a sowar off to take them to the Residency. It was no child's-play to select a messenger, for every man in his command itched to sink a saber-blade in Hindoo flesh; so finally they compromised by drawing lots. They're a bunch of fatalistic johnnies, those Mohammedans, and the chap who drew the short straw said it was the will of Allah that he be denied the pleasure of engaging in the shindy, and rode away without another murmur. Then my uncle told the men to stand to arms while he left them with the subadar and took two others to go scouting with him.
"At the forest edge they saw the Hindoos coming, and it must have been a sight, according to his diary. They were raising merry hell with drums and cymbals and tom-toms, singing and wailing and shrieking as if their luncheon disagreed with them. In the van came Brahmin priests, all decked out in robes of state and marching like a squad of sergeants major on parade. Then came a crowd of gurus—they're holy men, you know, and my uncle knew at once that these were specially holy; for whereas the average fakir shows enough bare hide to let you guess at his complexion, these fellows were so smeared with filth and ashes that you couldn't tell if they were black or white, and you could smell 'em half a mile away if you happened to get down-wind of 'em. They were jumpin' and contortin' round a four-wheeled cart to which a span of bullocks had been harnessed, and in which stood a ten-foot
