Passing through the crowds we reached the Court, which was filled, only the aisle in front of the table, down to the door, being unoccupied. Mr. Wood, the magistrate, was in his place, and we took seats on either side of him, and all business was quietly proceeding, when a tumult outside, in the Bazaar, attracted our attention, and in a few moments in rushed a Jamadar (sergeant) of police, followed by six of his men, all in a wonderful hurry and excitement. The Jamadar was a large, heavy man, rigged out with a red pugree (turban) on his head, and a red kummer-bund around his waist, with his tulwar tucked under his arm, his men being similarly decorated and accoutered. His face was flushed, for he had run hard; and, having for the moment lost his breath, when he drew up in front of the magistrate's table, and joined his hands to address him, the man could not say a word for a few seconds. At length he gasped out, “O Sahib, burra tukleef Bazaar men hai!” (O, sir, there is dreadful trouble in the Bazaar!) When the magistrate had succeeded in quieting the perturbation of the poor Jamadar, he was duly informed that “a gora log [a white soldier] had come out of the Fort into the Bazaar, armed with a stout stick, and that the first man he met he stretched him on the ground, and the rest, seeing what he had received, had retreated, jumping off their stalls and leaving money and goods behind them; and,” continued the distressed and terrified Jamadar, “Sahib, the gora is cutting capers there in the middle of the Bazaar, swinging his stick, and challenging them to come on, and offering to fight them all; but, of course, they wont go near him. They are all here in a heap at the end of the Bazaar, and. Sahib, what am I to do?” “What are you to do ! You gudha, (donkey,) why, go and arrest the man. What else would you do?” The astonished police officer looked at his chief as if he could not believe his own ears, and asked, “What did you say. Sahib?” “I said, go and arrest him.” He looked at Mr. Wood, and in deep distress at the danger of his disobedience, exclaimed with emphasis, “Sahib, it cannot be done. There is not a man in the Bazaar would dare to look him in the face!” Mr. W. insisted that he must “look him in the face,” and
