his visit was very much like all the rest of the houses
I saw in Simla. The verandah, however, was crowded with servants and
sowars in gorgeous but rather tawdry liveries, not all of them as clean
as they should have been. Horses with elaborate high saddles and
embroidered trappings rather the worse for wear were being led up and
down the walk. As we neared the door there was a strong smell of
rosewater and native perfumes and hookah tobacco--the indescribable
odour of Eastern high life. There was also a general air of wasteful and
tawdry dowdiness, if I may coin such a word, which one constantly sees
in the retinues of native princes and rich native merchants, ill
contrasting with the great intrinsic value of some of the ornaments worn
by the chief officers of the train.

Isaacs spoke a few words in a low voice to the jemadar at the door, and
we were admitted into a small room in the side of the house, opening, as
all rooms do in India, on to the verandah. There were low wooden
charpoys around the walls, and we sat down, waiting till the maharajah
should be advised of our arrival. Very soon a jemadar came in and
informed us that "if the _sahib log_, who were the protectors of the
poor, would deign to be led by him," we should be shown into the royal
presence. So we rose and followed the obsequious official into another
apartment.

The room where the maharajah awaited us was even smaller than the one
into which we had been first shown. It was on the back of the house, and
only half lighted by the few rays of afternoon sun that struggled
through the dense foliage outside. I suppose this apartment had been
chosen as the scene of the interview on account of its seclusion.
Outside the window, which was closed, a sowar paced slowly up and down
to keep away any curious listeners. A heavy curtain hung before the door
through which we had entered. I thought that on the whole the place
seemed pretty safe.

The old maharajah sat cross-legged upon a great pile of dark-red
cushions, his slippers by his side, and a huge hookah before him. He
wore a plain white pugree with a large jewel set on one side, and his
body was swathed and wrapped in dark thick stuffs, as if he felt keenly
the cold autumn air. His face was long, of an ashy yellowish colour, and
an immense white moustache hung curling down over his sombre robe. One
hand protruded from the folds and held the richly-jewelled mouthpiece of
the pipe to his lips, and I noticed