morial, and had seen that the stone steps were crumbling away and
looked very unsafe, so when he came back and said: "_Something bad
inside there, Lady Sahib_," I concluded naturally that he was referring
to the state of the staircase, and attributing the poor coolie's fall to
some such cause.

But he denied this strenuously: "_No! no! Lady Sahib--some bad debil
inside there. He threw coolie over!_" Then he went on to tell us that on
one special night in the year no native man, woman, or child in the
whole city could be induced to pass the Mutiny Memorial at midnight. The
few daring souls who _had_ passed there, had found the tower all lighted
up inside, and the Sepoys and the British soldiers had come back, and
were fighting their battles over again! The man spoke in simple good
faith, and assured me that all Delhi people knew this to be a fact, and
gave the place a wide berth on that anniversary.

The idea of the "bad debil" throwing the poor coolie down from the top
of the tower, followed by this curious legend, interested me as a bit of
folk-lore, but my companion was drastic in her remarks. "Silly nonsense,
Bobajee!" was her reception of the story; and this made me feel
intensely sorry for the moment, that Lady Wincote, who would have been
as much interested as myself, should not have been present. Did this
moment of intense desire for her, project itself into the appearance she
saw in her room? Who can say? Certainly it was a curious coincidence
that she should see me in an annoyed and excited state just when I was
feeling annoyed and excited--so many thousand miles away.

Delhi seems to have been specially favourable to psychic experiences,
for I find another one recorded on the very day succeeding the last
event.

My friend, having some slight ailment, I had driven out alone with our
native servant, and we made a long tour, returning about six P.M. past
Ludlow Castle, of famous Mutiny memory, and still--in the year 1891--a
Government bungalow.

The present Czar of Russia was travelling through India at the time as
Czarewitch, with his cousin, Prince George of Greece, and they were
expected to arrive in Delhi that same evening. The Royal party and suite
were to be lodged at Ludlow Castle, and were expected within an hour.

Bobajee jumped off the box of my carriage, and urged me to "go look,
see!"

"No, Bobajee! Drive on--can't go look see--they no let me in."

"Yes, yes, Lady Sahib," he said eagerly--"ev