"I did."

"You had a little dog with, you, and you
lost it at Deobund?"

"I did lose my dog, and made a great noise
about it. But how do you know all this?"

She smiled and sighed.

I was bewildered. My belief that she was
the Ranee Chunda was almost confirmed.
It was close to the encampment of the Ranee,
when she was on her way to Chunar, that my
dog was lost, and my servants and the officers
of police declared that it must have been some
of the Ranee's people who had stolen the
favourite.

"The dog is still alive," said the lady; "and
if you will come to-morrow, at twelve o'clock,
to my house, you shall see him; but you will
promise not to take him from me?"

"Of course, I will not take him from you.
But let me see him to-night, and tell me how
he came into your possession. I will see you
to your home."

"No, Sahib; be patient. I will tell you all
to-morrow; and when you have heard my
story you will perhaps do me a kindness. It
is in your power to assist me. Tell me where
you live, and I will send my brother to you
at eleven o'clock. He will conduct you to
my house. Salaam, Sahib."

I returned her salaam, and left her.

I did not go to bed till two o'clock the next
morning; and, when my tindal aroused me at
eleven, and informed me that a young man
wished to see me, I was disposed to believe
that my engagement at twelve had been made
in my dreams.

I ordered the young man to be admitted.
He came to my bed-side, and said in a
confidential tone of voice: " The lady has sent
me to wait your commands." I got up, made
a hasty toilet, drank a cup of very hot tea,
and followed the young man, who led me to
the little house near the theatre, at the top
of the Bazaar. I entered the abode, and
found the lady sitting, native fashion, on a
carpet on which was strewed marigold and
rose leaves. Her silver kuleean (small hookah)
was beside her; and, sure enough, there was
my long lost terrier, Duke, looking as sleek,
fat, lazy, and useless as a native lady's dog
could be. After expressing my thanks to the
lady for her condescension in granting me the
interview, I spoke to my former favourite,
Duke, but he only stretched, himself, and
yawned in reply.

"And you have still that ring with the
blue stone in it," said the lady, taking my
hand and smiling while she looked at the
ring. " I remember observing this when I saw
you asleep, one morning, on a couch in the
tent at Deobund. Had I noticed it when you
addressed me during the storm, I would not
have spoken so rudely to you."

"I do not remember having seen you
previous to the other evening," said I, "and if I
had, I should never have forgotten it."

"Where have we met?" I repeated.

"Where I had opportunities of seeing you,
but where you could not see me."

There was an old serving woman, whom
she called mother, attending upon her, and
the young man whom she called brother,
a soldier-like looking youth, was still standing
in the room to which he had conducted me.
The lady desired them both to withdraw, and
then begged me to bring the mora (or stool),
upon which I was sitting, close to her side.
I obeyed her. She placed her finely-formed
head in the palms of her hands, and gave
vent to a violent flood of tears. I suffered
her to weep without interruption. Grief
appeared to relieve her, rather than to
increase her pain. At length she dried her
eyes, and said:—

"My father was a Moolvee (Mahommedan
law officer), attached to the Sudder Court, in
Agra. I am his only daughter. He was
absent from home all day. Why should he
not be? He was paid for it; he ate the
Company's salt. Well, when I was about
fifteen years of age I was enticed away from
my home by the Kotwall (native police
officer). He sent an old woman, who had
silver on her tongue, and gold in her hand.
She told me long stories about love; and
promised me, that if I left my home I should
marry the Kotwall's son, who was young and.
handsome. I was but a child and very foolish.
The servants who had charge of me were all
bribed heavily. One received three hundred
rupees, another two hundred, a third one
hundred. These people encouraged me in the
idea that to marry the Kotwall's son would
be the most prudent thing in the world; and,
one day, when my father had gone to the
Court, at about ten o'clock, I eloped with
the old woman whom the Kotwall had sent
to talk me over.

"We travelled all day, in a bylee (native
carriage), guarded by two sowars. I asked
the old woman several times where she
was taking me, but her only reply was,
' Set your heart at rest, child, and eat
some sweetmeats.' The pawn which she
gave me must have been drugged, for
shortly after eating it I fell asleep. How
long I slept I cannot say, but when I awoke
I found myself in the house of a Sahib.
The old woman was there also. I became
alarmed, but my fears were quieted by
the old woman's tongue. She told me I
was close to Agra; but the truth was, I was
one hundred koss (two hundred miles)
distant. Nautch girls were sent for, and they
danced before me. I had this hookah given
to me, and these bangles. A boy, very
handsomely dressed, waited upon me, and
brought my food. Parrots, minahs, and
doves were purchased for me to play with.
Whatever my childish fancy dictated the old
woman instantly procured.

"I was so constantly amused I had no
time or inclination to think of my home.
My father was a bad tempered man, and