of Government, and every witness for the
prosecution is also a servant of Government. In brief, the whole case
against my client is nothing but pork, and a disgrace to the Government
of India, and to the Honourable East India Company, who have sanctioned
this trial, and who put every obstacle in my way to prevent my coming
out to defend my client. I repeat my assertion that the case is a
disgrace to the Honourable Company and the Government of India, and to
every servant of that Government who has had any finger in the
manufacture of this pork-pie." And so Mr. Lang continued, showing how
Ajoodia Pershad had come forward to the assistance of the State in its
hour of need, by supplying carriage for the materials of the army and
rations for the troops, and so forth, till the judge-advocate-general
declared that he felt ashamed to be connected with the case. The result
was that Ajoodia Pershad was acquitted on all counts, and decreed to be
entitled to his claims in full, and the umpire decided that Mr. Lang had
won the bet of a thousand rupees.

But my readers may ask--What has all this to do with the portrait of the
Nana Sahib? I am just coming to that. After his honourable acquittal,
Ajoodia Pershad was so grateful to Mr. Lang that he presented him with
an honorarium of three _lakhs_ of rupees, equal in those days to over
L30,000, in addition to the fees on his brief; and Mr. Lang happening to
say that he would very much like to have a portrait of his generous
client, Ajoodia Pershad presented him with one painted by a famous
native artist of those days, and the portrait was enshrined in a
jewelled frame worth another twenty-five thousand rupees. To the day of
his death Mr. Lang used to carry this portrait with him wherever he
went. When the Mutiny broke out he was in London, and the artists of
_The Illustrated London News_ were calling on every old Indian of
position known to be in England, to try and get a portrait of the Nana.
One of them was informed that Mr. Lang possessed a picture of an Indian
prince--then, as now, all Indians were princes to the British
public--which might be that of the arch-assassin of Cawnpore. The artist
lost no time in calling on Mr. Lang to see the picture, and when he saw
it he declared it was just the thing he wanted. Mr. Lang protested,
pointing out that the picture no more resembled the Nana of Bithoor than
it did her Gracious Majesty the Queen of England; that neither the dress
nor the