tern.

"Then shall the dust return to the earth as it was: and the spirit shall
return unto God who gave it."

Pass on to the silversmiths' quarter. Any of these men can do fine and
beautiful work with very few tools. If you want anything made you pay
them in a queer way. For the finished article is put in the scales and
weighed against rupees thrown into the other balance, and when the
rupees equal it then you give them to the workman, together with so many
annas in each rupee for his work.

How can we ever take in all this varied life, so different from the life
we are used to? The women sitting on the balconies above, the pariah
dogs prowling for scraps below, the druggists and spice-sellers, the
fruit and vegetable stalls? Over it all is that peculiar, scented, musty
bazaar smell, made up of saffron and wood and dirt, with which we are
already so familiar.

Wonderful Delhi! A city teeming with myriads of men of many races and
customs, living side by side. Successor of seven cities which have
stood here or hereabout in successive ages. From the earliest days a
place of consequence, a place to be reckoned with, and now, by the
proclamation of the King-Emperor, the first city in the land, as it is
already the centre!

[Illustration: CLUMSY BOATS WITH THATCHED ROOFS.]

CHAPTER XIX

TO THE DEATH!

A curious building, isn't it? I mean that one right in front of us. It
is something like a very large and many-sided crown, built of stone and
set upon the ground. The sides are pierced with windows of the same sort
as those seen in churches, and on each of the angles there is a little
pinnacle. It rises up serenely against the soft blue sky of this early
morning. We are far from Delhi now, having arrived at Cawnpore late last
night, and we have come out here first thing this morning. It is only
seven now.

Cawnpore! The Mutiny! Those two things rush simultaneously into the
mind, for Cawnpore is associated with the most awful scenes of the
Mutiny, and no Briton can ever think of it without those scenes flashing
before him.

Come nearer and pass inside the crown and you will see in the centre a
great angel of the usual sort, with high sweeping wings, holding palm
branches folded across its breast. It marks the Well of Cawnpore.

You know that story, of course, and yet, as we sit here, on the very
spot where it all happened, with the Indian sky above us, we cannot help
recalling it once more. In telling it