Upon the whole, when the Court was cleared, and Tom and I repaired to his bungalow, I felt that I had added something to my little stock of experience, in having witnessed this mode of administering justice in a sepoy corps.
The next thing of the kind I attended was an invaliding committee, a body assembled periodically for the purpose of examining those soldiers whose age or infirmities rendered them unfit for further active service, which I need not describe.
The system of granting pensions to old and worn-out veterans is an admirable one; it binds the native soldier to us more strongly than anything else, and is one of the firmest foundations of our power in India. Frequently, at a more advanced period of my Indian career, have I had occasion to observe its admirable workings. I have listened to the old veteran, in his native village, with pleasure, surrounded by his children, and children’s children, as he has recounted his deeds, showed his medals and his scars, and spoken with, I believe, sincerely grateful feelings of the generosity of the “Kumpany Angraiz Bahadour.”
CHAPTER XVIII.
A day or two after this, my bearer gave me a little rose-coloured billet, which had been left for me, of which missives (though not always couleur de rose) there is a vast circulation in India—almost all communications from house to house, and family to family, being carried on in this way.
The note was from Miss Lucinda; it was written in a delicate crow-quill hand, and sealed with a dainty device (“qui me néglige, me perd”), or something of that sort, and contained an invitation, in her mamma’s name, to a soirée musicale, on the following evening.
“Here is an invitation (a provoke), Tom” said I, “from your friend, the stout gentlewoman; shall we go?”
“Oh, certainly,” was the reply. “I have a similar one. Mrs. Brownstout’s parties are amongst the most agreeable at Barrackpore; her guests are always well selected and well assorted—the grand desiderata of all social meetings. I like her and her daughters amazingly, having uniformly received the most unaffected kindness from both. The old lady, indeed, looks upon me as her son, and, if there were not insuperable obstacles in the way, Frank,—entendez-vous?—I might become so in reality.”
“Perhaps, Tom,” said I, “that’s what she is manœuvering to effect.”
“No,” replied he; “she is above-board, and incapable of such a proceeding; she is no schemer—would be glad, no doubt, to marry her girls to worthy men, in an open, honest way; but would scorn to effect it by little crooked arts: never, Frank, if you please, say a word to the prejudice of Mrs. Brownstout in my presence.”