Is not that curious and melodramatic? Noor Mahal went to his father’s funeral pyre and said to Dhian Singh, the prime minister, that the fire and the sun had made him so hot he should like to go and stand in the shade of the great gateway of the palace. Just as he reached it the arch fell in, killed his young favourite, the nephew of Dhian Singh, on whose arm he was leaning, and injured him so much that he died two hours after; and now twenty-two guns are firing for his death. That is the third generation of Punjab kings we have seen since we have been here. Runject, his son Kurruck, and his grandson Noor Mahal.
They kept Noor Mahal’s death a secret for twelve hours, till they had sent for our friend Shere Singh, and he is now king, and dear little Pert&b heir-apparent. This is a good thing for us; he is very friendly to the English, and the durbar is so weak with all these blows that they have consented to all our troops marching through their territories. We used to go under that gateway every day when we were at Lahore, and it looked as if it had stood since
