"
"But why should he hate us, Doctor? he is none the worse off now
than he was before we annexed the country."
"Well, yes, that class of man is worse off. In the old days every
noble and Zemindar kept up a little army for the purpose of fighting
his neighbors, just as our Barons used to do in the happy olden
times people talk of. We have put down private fighting, and the
consequence is these men's occupations are gone, and they flock to
great towns and there live as best they can, ready to commit any
crime whatever for the sum of a few rupees.
"There is Nana Sahib."
Isobel looked round and saw a carriage with a magnificent pair
of horses, in harness almost covered with silver ornaments, drive
up to a place that had been kept vacant for it. Four natives were
sitting in it.
"That is the Rajah," the Doctor said, "the farther man, with that
aigrette of diamonds in his turban. He is Oriental today, but
sometimes he affects English fashions. He is a very cheery fellow,
he keeps pretty well open house at Bithoor, has a billiard table,
and a first rate cellar of wine, carriages for the use of guests
--in fact, he does the thing really handsomely."
"Here is my opera glass," Mrs. Hunter said. Isobel looked long and
fixedly at the Rajah.
"Well, what do you think of him?" the Doctor asked as she lowered
it.
"I do not know what to think of him," she said; "his face does not
tell me anything, it is like looking at a mask; but you see I am
not accustomed to read brown men's characters, they are so different
from Europeans, their faces all seem so impassive.
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