I Do not know whether the following sketch will prove of much interest to the general reader, since it refers to time and events that are past: to that war of ours with the Sikhs in India, now happily over. To those, however, who, had relatives in that war, and lost them, it will be welcome, for the incidents related in it are authentic, though they savour strongly of romance.

In the year 1833, a handsome young lad of seventeen, whom it will not do to call here by his real name, went out to India as a cadet. It is his career-and it was but a short one-that I wish to tell you of. He was a high-spirited, noble boy, but wild, thoughtless, and everlastingly in scrapes; and had caused his guardians no end of trouble and expense. But they could not help admiring the lad with all his faults; and his mother, though she would call him her unlucky boy, called him likewise her darling Harry. Harry was his Christian name: there's no necessity to change that and for the rest let us say Harry Lynn. He was the younger of two sons; his father was a substantial country squire; and a profitable living, in the gift of the family, was destined for him. So, by way of preparation, the child, at nine years old, was sent to Dr. Bringemon's fast academy in London, where he picked up notions quite at variance with those of his sober father and mother. At twelve years old, he had fallen in love with a soldier's coat, and told his sisters privately, that they should never make a parson of him. At fourteen, ere the mourning he wore for his father was soiled, he wrote word home that he would be a captain in India. He was sent for to the Hall. His mother cried, his guardians talked of a birch-rod, but Master Harry held to his own will. He lavished love upon his mother, but he laughingly defied his guardians; and the upshot of the business was, that Henry Lynn was posted as a gentleman-cadet, and at seventeen set sail for India.

It would seem that he liked the life he found there, for, some five or six years afterwards, when, by the death of his brother, he succeeded to the family estate, and it was supposed he would sell out and go home to enjoy it, he made no change at all; save paying off his debts, and launching forth into fresh expense, which he had been quite ready to do before. Few men were so universally liked as Harry Lynn. Impetuous, open-hearted, generous, and handsome as he had been in boyhood, so he remained in manhood.

Now do you know much about that race of men called the Sikhs? Few do; save that they are people inhabiting certain tracts of land in India. Nobody had ever heard of them till about two hundred years ago, when they came to light as natives of Hindostan; a peaceful, submissive race of men, inoffensive as are our Quakers. Their religion was a mixture of Mahometanism and Hindooism, neither entirely one nor the other, which brought down upon them persecutions from the bigots of

both creeds; and, towards the termination of the empire of Delhi, these persecutions became so excessive, that the Sikhs were compelled to rise in arms against their oppressors. It takes but little, when once the train is laid, to change a peaceful race of men to one of cruelty and the Sikhs were goaded to become such. They established certain chieftaincies amongst themselves, called Missuls, and, with time, rose to greatness. Some took possession of that portion of India which, being watered by the five branches of the Indus, is called the Punjab, or land of five waters; whilst others settled themselves on the opposite, or eastern, side of the Sutlej.

It is more than half a century now, that the Sikhs of the Punjab, on the western side of the Sutlej, were first governed by Runjeet Singh. A man of great ability, who established his kingdom, called by the name of its capital, Lahore, on a sure foundation. But power begets the love of power, and Runjeet Singh cast his eye to the Sikhs on the east of the Sutlej, and thought he should like to govern them. His hopes were fruitless, for they had been taken under the protection of the British government, and the chances of a war with that formidable power, Runjeet Singh knew better than to hazard. On the contrary, he entered into a treaty with the British authorities, which proved of advantage to both parties. Years wore on, and the kingdom of Lahore increased in importance. On the termination of the continental wars, when Napoleon was sent to St. Helena, numerous European soldiers, men and officers, passed over to India, and enlisted into the service of Runjeet Singh. Under the example and training of these brave men, the army of Runjeet Singh became almost equal to our own. It carried its conquests into Afghanistan, and amongst other provinces that fell before its prowess was the beautiful Vale of Cashmere, so celebrated in song. But Runjeet Singh died in the course of time, and, with his death, all the jealousies and ill-feeling of the Sikhs towards the British, which he had kept under, broke out with irresistible bitterness, and there was little peace in the Punjab afterwards. Not that the animosities, and petty wars of this period, are going to be described here.

In the same year that Harry Lynn obtained his captaincy he went exploring about the country. Amongst other places that he visited was Lahore, and when he left it he performed an exploit that officers have borne the character for being ready at, from a captain, bold, of Halifax and ghostly memory, down to those of our own times. He " ran away with a maid, who"-did not hang herself, but flew with him to his quarters at Calcutta.

She was one of the loveliest creatures possible to be imagined: as many living in Calcutta could tell you now: but that was no justification for the conduct of Captain Lynn. Her mother, a Sikh, had married one of those European officers who had joined Runjeet Singh's army, a handsome Frenchman, and this child, Agee, their only one, was strikingly like her father, so that her beauty was of the European, not Asiatic, cast. The Frenchman died when she was an infant, and her mother married again, a Sikh. All trace, nearly all remembrance, of the lady's early alliance was lost, and Agee was brought up in the customs, habits, and religion of her mother's land. During the visit of Captain Lynn at Lahore, he became acquainted with her, a lovely girl just blossoming into

womanhood; a powerful attachment sprung up between them, and the result was-as I have told you above. Such was the history of the girl, and the particulars of the affair, as they became known, bit by bit, to Captain Lynn's circle of friends at Calcutta.

He enshrined her in a secluded home at Calcutta; he surrounded her with all sorts of expensive luxuries; he lavished every proof of affection upon her, save one-marriage. And that she could not now expect: for recollect, young ladies, that if once your steps take you but a single inch out of the beaten track, you never get the ring upon your finger as a sequel.

II.

То

WE must now go on to the autumn of 1845. In her Calcutta home, in a luxurious apartment of it, richly furnished with articles peculiar to an Eastern life, sat this young girl we have been speaking of, Agee. She was in evening dress, enhancing, if that were possible, her surpassing beauty. Her robe was of muslin, spangled with silver, silver ornaments were on her neck and arms, and were interlaced with her dark hair. look at her, so young and lovely, none would suppose but she held a position in society and was fitted to adorn it; for a nameless grace pervaded her presence, and a sweet, modest refinement shone forth in her every look and action. Poor girl! do not judge her more harshly than you can help, for hers was an unhappy fate. Calcutta railed at her enough, without your doing so, especially those ladies in it who had sisters to marry, and who would have given their heads to have got Harry Lynn. None thought of compassion; it was all censure; but she merited quite as much of the one as of the other, for she was more sinned against than sinning; and, rely upon it, that a life, such as she was leading, brings with it its own punishment. She had not understood these matters when she left Lahore, poor maiden: she understood them too well now. Perhaps some such consciousness as this was present to her on this evening, for her pale features wore a look of pain, and tears gathered frequently in her eyes. The room was redolent of a sweet perfume, emitted from burning pastiles: it was open to the terrace, and the breezy fans intervening kept up a delightful motion. Outside, stretched at his ease on a large bench, his heels higher than his head, and lazily blowing clouds into the air from his cigar, was one of the handsomest men in all Calcutta, and in manners one of the most prepossessing-and the two don't always go together. You guess of course that it was Harry Lynn. He was quite as deep in thought as Agee inside, and it may be that his reflections, like hers, were not agreeable, for a contraction, as of perplexity or anger, sat on his otherwise open brow. You may read them if you like, just in the disjointed interludes that he thought them.

"I was a fool-that's what I was! I might have had the thing over at once there, and have done with it, not have brought her away with me, and saddled myself like this for years. How the deuce it's to be broken through now, I can't see. By Jove! I shall be worn to a skeleton with all this plotting and perplexity. I get no sleep at night for worrying over it.

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My mother writes me that it's time I married; and thinks me an ungrateful dog never to have run over to England. Ungrateful! no,

no, not that, dearest mother: thoughtlessness was born with me, and will never leave me. It is time I married: in a year I shall count thirty summers, and a fellow gets confirmed in bachelor habits after that. I wish I could marry. Maria Grame is the dearest and loveliest girl I have ever known, but it's of no use telling the old colonel I think so, till Agee's got rid of. Maria knows nothing about her, that's clear, for she's too correct a girl to have listened to my lovemaking if she did. We might be married here; I would get leave of absence and take her to England; my dear mother's old heart would be delighted; and Maria-but where's the use of planning if one can't execute? What's to be done with Agee? I can't turn her over as one does an opera-dancer. If I could see any way I should not care to drop a few thousands-but there's none to be seen. She would rebel at the first hint of parting, and as to force and stratagem-awkward both; and the end not gained perhaps. The worst is she's so innocent and unsuspicious, so different from this sort of thing in general, that there's no knowing how to deal with her. This all comes of my own folly. Devil take the cigar! it's gone out. I won't light it again."

Rising, and throwing his cigar away, Harry Lynn stepped into the room, and spoke; his tone betraying somewhat of the irritation of his thoughts.

"Agee! how fond you are of those pastiles! The smell of them is quite overpowering."

"I will not light any more; these are nearly out," she answered in very good English, for she had been an apt scholar under his tuition.

"Oh light as many as you please," he returned, in a kinder and more careless tone. "I am going to dress."

"To dress?" she exclaimed.

"There's a party at Colonel Grame's to-night. I promised to be there."

She leaned back on the ottoman, her whole attitude bespeaking disappointment, if not despair.

"How many nights-weeks-months-have you thus spoken: leaving me to this home-solitude! to my dreary thoughts!"

"Now, Agee, don't be unreasonable," he remonstrated. "I am sure you, of all, cannot complain of neglect. But society has also claims

on me."

"It had the same claims when I was first here," she answered, mournfully, "and you did not leave me then."

He soothed her, but he evaded a direct answer, and strode out of the room. His conduct towards her was never otherwise than affectionate, though he had tired of her; as it is the nature of man, in these connexions, to tire. When he returned to it, he was in full dress, and, wishing her good night, left for Colonel Grame's, gaily whistling some bars from the last new opera that had found its way from our shores to Calcutta.

Agee sat on where she was. Musical instruments, on which she was a finished performer, were at hand, books lay on the tables, but she neglected all, and never moved from her attitude of despair. Late in the evening, a middle-aged woman, dressed in a fashion peculiar to Lahore, glided in.

"Ever thus, lady," she said, in their native language, "ever cast down.

You would be better and happier in your own land than here: and the time has now come when you must return to it."

The lady looked up with a deepening colour, for the words were peremptorily spoken.

"Listen!" cried the woman, earnestly, as she bent to her mistress. "This bosom pillowed your head in its infancy; you were the solace of this poor heart in your childhood, and when you left us, I thought it would have broken. Your mother died; and I, who felt more to you than mother, set out to seek you. Far, far I travelled; through hunger, and thirst, and heat, and weariness; along plains of sand, over deserts, through rivers, across mountains; with no guide to direct me, save instinct-the same instinct that will take a bird to its nest; and when I was well-nigh wearied out of life, I found you. What motive had I, think you, except love?"

"Dayah!" cried the young lady, rousing herself, "I know your love for me. I know you have been to me all that a mother can be more than mine was; that you have remained here in this strange land, away from ties and kindred, for my sake. I know all this."

"Then, remembering it, dear lady, you may be sure I would be silent for ever, rather than speak a word to give you pain. Yet I must say that word this night."

"Say on," she faintly cried.

"You have clung to this Englishman longer than you ought.

You"

"Not so," interrupted Agee, her pale cheek flushing. "We shall cling to each other so long as our years shall last."

"No, no, lady," returned the woman; "he seeks to deceive you, even now. There is a fair girl of the north ready to supplant you; one whose eyes are of the beautiful hue of the heavens; whose hair is as sunny threads of gold. I have seen her. This very day, in public, he was by

her side."

"What of her?" shivered Agee.

"She is to be his wife: it is no secret in Calcutta. And you, lady, will be put away, and estranged from him more effectually than if you had never known him. It is their custom, these Europeans."

Agee did not answer. She rose and stood there, motionless and rigid, her eyes staring, her lips open. It seemed as if the woman's gaze, as it bent on her, had turned her into stone, like the Ægis of old.

The attendant looked round, and bringing her face in closer contact with that of her mistress, proceeded in a cautious whisper:

"I have heard again to-day. The Sikhs waver no longer; they are united and determined, and the war is coming on rapidly. In three moons from this, lady, they will have possession of India."

But still there was no answer. It was as if the young girl heard

not.

nurse,

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"The Akalio* are urging them on now," proceeded the old any thought of peace is fruitless. You must not stay here: the land will be overrun with blood, from one end of it to the other."

Wandering priests. A fanatic race of men, possessing unbounded influence

in the Punjab, especially over the native chieftains.