prisoner; however, as the major had expressed a desire that the English might have him in their possession, he thought it necessary to know whether they seriously expected this deference, and accordingly, on the same morning that the pagoda surrendered, went to the major; with whom he had a conference which convinced him that the English were his friends, and that they were resolved not to interfere any farther in the dispute. He therefore immediately on his return to Chuckly-pollam put his design into execution, by ordering the head of Chunda-saheb to be struck off.
The executioner of this deed was a Pitan, one of Monack-jee's retinue, reserved for such purposes. He found the unfortunate victim an aged man, stretched on the ground, from whence the infirmities of sickness rendered him unable to rear himself. The aspect and abrupt intrusion of the assassin instantly suggested to Chunda-saheb the errand on which he was sent. He waved his hand, and desired to speak to Monack-jee before he died, saying, that he had something of great importance to communicate to him: but the man of blood giving no heed to his words, proceeded to his work, and after stabbing him to the heart, severed his head from his body.
The head was immediately sent into Tritchinopoly to the Nabob, who now for the first time saw the face of his rival. After he had gratified his courtiers with a sight of it, they tied it to the neck of a camel, and in this manner it was carried five times round the walls of the city, attended by a hundred thousand spectators, insulting it with all the obscene and indecent invectives peculiar to the manners of Indostan. It was afterwards carefully packed up in a box, and delivered to an escort, who gave out that they were to carry it to be viewed by the Great Mogul at Delhi; a practice generally observed to heighten the reputation of the successful cause: but there is no season to believe that it was ever carried out of the Carnatic.
Such was the unfortunate and ignominious end of this man. The many examples of a similar fate, which are perpetually produced by the contests of ambition in this unsettled empire, have established a proverb, that fortune is a throne; and therefore he who falls in such contests is only reckoned unfortunate, without having the odium of
