he constantly wandered on that well remembered spot, and in imagination saw again his father bowing before the sacred fire, or the diamond-like eyes of the Cobra fixed on his intended prey.

On this evening he returned home with his mind full of Munna, and the Suttee, and the blunt words of Sergeant Wilson. Since he had joined the army he had been thrown with Mussulmans as well as Christians, and had witnessed more than once the pompous ceremonies of the Nuruz, or the Mohurrum. Of the Chris

tian public worship he had never had an opportunity of seeing anything, but in the midst of all he still joined with the other Brahmin Sepoys in their customary observances.

The little village was full of excitement on account of the Suttee, for the wretched victim was no other than Lachsmee, the friend and companion of Munna. She had married a wealthy Hindoo much older than herself, and his dying command, as well as the first impulse of sorrow, had induced her to consent to the sacrifice. The officiating priests were all natives of her village, and from something which one of them let fall in an unguarded moment, whilst conversing with Crishna, the horrible notion flashed across him that they were not wholly disinterested. in the consummation of the odious rite.* Did the wily Brahmin read his mind that he so quickly launched forth into praises of the deluded girl, and descant on her present glories in paradise ? Perhaps so. Crishna at least put the thought `from him with horror.

And now we must turn to a different scene. It was late in November of the year 1810, but not such a November as we know of in these northern latitudes. The sky was perfectly cloudless and of the purest blue, excepting where stretching out to the far East some beautiful pink streaks heralded the rising sun far, far away, where the peaceful sky met the turbulent waves of the Indian ocean.

On a gentle eminence, covered with the most luxuriant verdure, stood an elderly

man.

He wore a long blue frock-coat with gilt buttons, and a cocked hat was laid on the grass by his side, while the cool morning breeze slightly fanned his long white hair. He had no companion *The Brahmins receive money for these and all other funeral rites.

save the white mule which was quietly browsing a few paces off. He was looking eastward, but not towards the horizon; his eyes were fixed on the sky above, and there was not the slightest mist to intercept his gaze.

"C'est bon," he said half aloud, "I am quite sure now. One, two, three, if there are one, there are a score: I must inform the governor. Allons, Jocko, we must be going.'

The mule, thus addressed, raised his head, casting a rather wistful look at the beautiful pasture he was required to abandon, yet suffering his master to rearrange his bridle, mount, and commence his homeward journey.

The following morning found M. Fontaine at the door of the Government House at Port Louis seeking an audience of the General. After some trouble, and much patient waiting, he was ushered in, and having got through a long preamble, began the real subject of his visit.

"I have watched now for three successive mornings, and I am certain, M. le Général-I am certain that there is a large squadron assembled there."

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Impossible! at Rodrigue do you say, why the island is three hundred miles off!"

"C'est bon ! it is quite that, but I have never yet been deceived, and if the wind remains where it is, you will have an opportunity of judging for yourself,"

"What is it you say then," resumed the general, "that there are ships ?"...

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Pardon, M. le Général; I say there is an English squadron now at Rodrigue, quite twenty ships, and what can we conclude but that they are on their way to attack the Isle of France."

But the governor turned on his heel with a scornful air, and telling M. Fontaine that he should hear from him in the course of the morning, dismissed him full of vexation at the reception his warning had met with.

He had not long to wait for the promised message, for in two hours time a party of the National Guard arrived, bearing a warrant signed by General De Caen for his arrest and imprisonment on a charge of spreading false reports to the disturbing of the peace of the inhabitants of Port Louis.

*This is a fact. See history of the British Colonies by R. Montgomery Martin, F.S.S. Vol. iv. chap. ii.

A week had scarcely elapsed before he was liberated, for the accuracy of his observations was no longer to be doubted. The British troops effected a landing, and after defeating the French in several engagements forced the governor to capitulate, and on the 10th of December the British flag replaced the tricolour on the Government House.

M. Fontaine, in his heart an adherent of the Bourbons, secretly rejoiced, and disposed himself to welcome the English in every way that he could.

Among the troops engaged in this expedition were the two regiments to which Crishna Mohun, and Sergeant Wilson respectively belonged, the one in the Company's, the other in the King's

service.

Since the Sepoy had last left his house he had been so constantly engaged, that the thoughts, hardly understood by himself, which had been excited by his mixing with persons of different creeds and customs had ceased to occupy him. But now he found himself in a Christian town, he saw Christian temples, he entered within them, but he could not understand what he heard, although the beautiful music filled him with awe, and the devout behaviour of the congregation impressed him in a way which all the cusa grass* and sacred fire had failed to do.

One thing, too, he especially noticed, which was the cross on the roof of the eastern end of the churches. He noticed the same, too, within the buildings, and he remembered the same sign on the banner of S. George. What could this mean? Then he would recal the frightful images of Rhali, with her black face, and other gods and goddesses, and the self-inflicted sufferings of their devotees. But he never spoke on the subject to his fellow soldiers.

At the end of a year an additional small church was completed for the use of the few British residents in the island, and here Crishna was constantly to be found, though still he abstained from making any remarks, and lived as usual with the other Brahmins of his regiment. He

*This grass is of great importance in the daily oblations of the Brahmins.

found no one of whom he could learn anything respecting the Christian faith, for no one ventured to raise the veil that rested on his heart. And why? Because it was forbidden by Christians themselves, for motives of worldly policy, to endeavour to spread amongst the heathen soldiers. the blessings of their own faith!

Strange that the religion of Him Who made it His especial charge to His disciples that they should "Preach the Gospel to every creature," should thus forbid its announcement. Strange that a nation so wise and so generally true to the principles of their Divine LORD as the people of Great Britain, should absolutely pass laws in their public assembly denouncing all attempts to convert, or to save souls, whom by their own acknowledgement, they held to be out of the pale of salvation. But so it was. In vain the poor Sepoy was "feeling after GOD, if haply he might find Him." Brought up as he had been with the most profound veneration for Brahma, and in all the pride of the highest caste, the thought that any religion superior to his own could exist, was at first revolting to his mind. But the truth was gradually forcing itself upon him. He thought. He doubted. He wavered. But there was no one to whom he could turn, nor did any speak of the high things of that SAVIOUR Whom they professed to believe. He was seeking the light, but they who held it, made it but darkness to the poor Sepoy. He was as the Ethiopian eunuch reading in the Book of the Prophet, but had no one to guide him.