THE STATION. #1
on their way to the Ganges for their annual dip in the. sacred stream; a gang of gipsies; a string of camel-drivers ; or a troop of musicians escorting a celebrated nautch-dancer to her home in Cashmere, after a successful season in Bengal. However it might be, it invariably happened that, a few hours after the strangers had entered the station, the bazaar and the cantonments were in a ferment of gossip and conjecture; the sepoys at ence grew sulky and idle ; the Mahomedans of the town became insolent, and the Hindoos pert. The very domestic servants appeared to share the contagion; the cooks got drunk, and the grooms stupid , the water-carrier omitted to fill the bath, and the butler to ice the Moselle ; the peon spent twice his usual number of hours in conveying a note to the next compound but one; while the bearers delighted to imsult their mistress by smoking under her window, and coming bareheaded into her presence, whenever the Sahib and his horsewhip were well out of the way.
To us, who from the standing-poimt of complete and certain knowledge look back upon that March and April pregnant with a great and sombre future, it seems indeed miraculous that our countrymen then resident in India should not have entertained a suspicion of what those months would bring forth. It appears incredible that the officers should have
