We marched into our camp near the city under a heavy fall of rain, and were met by a son of the khan, who came to pay his respects to Sir Willoughby Cotton, whilst his father visited Sir Henry Fane on board his boats, which kept parallel with the army during its progress.
On the 31st, Sir Henry returned the visit, attended by a numerous suite of officers. Bahawul Khan made no efforts to display any splendour; perhaps, he considered it politic to affect poverty in the presence of the British chief. The conversation was as interesting as usual on the like occasions, and ran, as well as I can remember, nearly as follows:—
Sir Henry.—I come as the emissary of the British government, to offer you their friendship.
B. Khan.—I am sensible of the condescension displayed towards me, both by them and yourself, in granting this interview.
Sir Henry.—The British government are just and equitable, faithful to their friends, terrible to their enemies, (looking very dignified, and rather fierce.)
B. Khan.—I fully appreciate the magnitude of the British name, and see their power. All I have is theirs, and I am your slave.
Sir Henry.—Now, talk we of other matters. Is not the climate unusually cold for this season of the year, at Bahawulpore?
B. Khan.—It is, undoubtedly; but at the present moment, I feel neither cold nor damp, whilst basking in the sunshine of your presence.
Sir Henry was looking blue with cold, and stiff with dignity; so the khan must have been of a fiery temperament if he spoke the truth.