Lord Jamleigh became very red in the face, and rather confused both in manner and speech. As for myself and the two assistant-magistrates, there was something so benignant in the expression of our host's handsome and dignified countenance--something so quaintly sarcastic in the tone and manner of his discourse, that, had we known that death was the penalty of not maintaining the gravity of our features, our lives would certainly have been forfeited.
A silence for several minutes ensued; and then Lord Jamleigh spoke to our host as follows:--
"Most of the young noblemen who come to this country, come only to travel about and amuse themselves. I come on business--I may say, Parliamentary business. My time is short, and I must make the most of it. I dare say, when you saw my name in the papers, as having arrived in India, you little thought that I was not a man of pleasure and excursion?"
"Upon my word, the subject never once became a matter of speculation with me," said our host.
After some further conversation, in which our host spared his visitor as little as was consistent with good breeding, Lord Jamleigh, who had been "sitting upon thorns," rose and said:--
"I am afraid I have already trespassed on your goodness too long. I will not attempt to apolo--apolo--or to express how much--how much; nor to assure you that--assure you--that when--"
"Oh, pray don't mention it!" said our host, smiling. "You desire your palkee?"
The palkee was ordered, and we were standing in expectation that it would be instantly announced as "ready," when the sirdar-bearer (head personal attendant) came into the room, in a state of excessive trepidation, and informed us that the Sahib's Sahib (Lord Jamleigh's valet) was drunk, asleep, and refused to be disturbed on any pretence whatever.
This announcement, which caused general merriment, induced Lord Jamleigh to ejaculate:--
"That's the champagne, I suspected as much!"
"Where is he?" inquired our host of the sirdar-bearer. "In his palkee?"
"No, Sahib," was the reply. "He is lying on that Sahib's bed," pointing to me.
Here, again, everybody laughed, except myself. I was rather angry, being somewhat particular on this point. So I suggested that he might be put into his vehicle at once. The native servants, of course, were afraid to touch him, lest he should awake and "hit out;" so we, the five of us, Europeans, the magistrate, the two assistant magistrates, Lord Jamleigh, and myself, had to lift, remove, and pack in his palkee, the overcome, and perfectly unconscious valet. He must have been sipping brandy-and water before he came to the bungalow, for he had only half finished his bottle of champagne. Lord Jamleigh now got into his palanquin, and composed himself for the night, or, rather, the remainder of it, and in order that there might be no mistake as to his Lordship's destination, the magistrate sent a horseman to accompany the cortège, with directions that "the Sahibs" were to be taken to Durowlah, on the road to Meerut, and to the house of the magistrate, by whom Lord Jamleigh had been invited, or rather, "petitioned," to stay with him, should he pass through that station, and (to use his Lordship's own terms), as he had promised to do so, he supposed that he must keep his word. When a palanquin is escorted by a sowar, the sowar when the destination is approached, rides on and gives notice that a lady, or gentleman, as the case may be, is coming; and, as the natives of India can never pronounce European names properly, the precaution is usually taken of writing down the name of the traveller on a card, or a slip of paper, and giving it to the sowar. In this case, "Viscount Jamleigh" was written down for the guidance and information of the Durowlah functionary.