promptness and foresight of Forjett. He was the prototype of Kipling's 'Strickland Sahib,' the man who could speak the language and assume the garb of a native without detection. It came to Forjett's ears that the sepoys were holding seditious meetings at a certain house in the town belonging to a native. The officers of the regiment, like many others similarly situated, were not only unsuspicious, but they reposed absolute faith in their men. To convince them that they were wrong, Forjett arranged that they should overhear what passed at one of these meetings. The result was that timely arrests were made and the town was saved. The merchants and tradesmen of Bombay recognised their indebtedness to Forjett and showed their gratitude by the gift of a substantial sum of money.
The town of Cuddalore, that once hummed with military life and shook at the cannon's roar, has sunk into quietude. It has its bazaar with stalls of vegetables and meat, shops of brass, copper, and tin ware of rough country make, a 'Europe goods' emporium, where ribbons, sardines, cheap looking-glasses, &c., may be bought, and its toddy shops. Groups of placid natives haggle and bargain as though time had no value. Marriage processions pass through the streets, and the dead are carried out to the burial-ground. Over all shines the wonderful tropical sun, turning the yellow sand to gold and the whitewashed walls to gleaming marble. In the azure of the sky, Garuda circles, calling for his deity as his eye is cast earthwards in search of a meal. Happily there is no battlefield with stricken horse and bullock to bring him down and tempt him to forget his sorrows in the terrible feast.
A few tough old pensioners occupy the bungalows in the old town that were once the residences of the English officers. They find recreation in fishing, and in an
