n the
earlier part of the last century. Opposite the armoury, and across a small
beautifully-paved court, were the private apartments of Shah Jehan. They
reminded me very much of the Alhambra, only, instead of the honeycomb
vaulted ceilings, and arches decorated in stucco by the Moors, the Eastern
architect inlaid his ceilings with an extraordinary incrustation of glass,
usually silvered on the back, but also frequently coloured, and giving a
strange effect of mother-o'-pearl inlay, bordering on tawdriness when
examined in detail.

It is possible that this coloured glass actually had its intended effect
of inlaid jewels, and that the gem-encrusted walls, so enthusiastically
described by Tavernier and others, as almost matching the peacock throne
itself, may have been but imitation.

Many of the pilasters were, however, very beautiful--of white marble
inlaid with flower patterns of coloured stones--while the arched window
openings were filled in with creamy tracery of fair white marble.

Leaving the fort after an all too short visit, we crossed to the great
mosque built by Aurungzeb. Ascending--from a garden bright with flowers
and blossoming trees--a flight of broad steps, we found ourselves at the
end of a rectangular enclosure, at each corner of which stood a red column
not altogether unlike a factory chimney. In the centre was a circular
basin, very wide, and full of clear water, while in front, three white
marble domes rose like great pearls gleaming against the cloudless blue.
The mosque itself is built of red--dark red--sandstone, decorated with
floral designs in white marble.

We climbed one of the minarets, and had a view of the city at our feet,
and the green and fertile plains stretching dim into the shimmering haze
beyond the Ravee River.

Then back to the hotel through the teeming alleys and down to the
station--the road, that we had found so bitterly cold in the early morning,
now a blaze of sunlight, where the dust stirred up by the shuffling feet
of the wayfarers quivered in the heat, and the shadows of men and beasts
lay short and black beneath them.

We were not sorry to seek coolness in the bare railway carriage, and let
the fresh wind fan us as we sat by the open window and watched the flat,
monotonous landscape sliding past.

The journey from Lahore to Rawal Pindi is not a very long one--only about
170 miles, or less than the distance from London to York; but an Indian
train being more leisur