necessity of my paying the first visit of condolence for the death of my young friend to the widow and mother.  ‘The rights of mothers’, said she, ’are respected in all countries; and, in India, the first visit of condolence for the death of a man is always due to the mother, if alive.’  I told the messenger that my resolution was unaltered, and would, I trusted, be found the best for all parties under present circumstances.  I told him that I dreaded the resentment towards them of Raghunath Rao, if he came into power.

‘Never mind that,’ said he:  ’my mistress is of too proud a spirit to dread resentment from any one—­pay her the compliment of the first visit, and let her enemies do their worst.’  I told him that I could leave Jhansi without visiting either of them, but could not go first to the castle; and he said that my departing thus would please the old lady better than the second visit.  The minister would not have said this—­the old lady would not have ventured to send such a message by him—­the man was an understrapper; and I left him to mount my elephant and pay my two visits.[9]

With the best cortege I could muster, I went to Raghunath Rao’s, where I was received with a salute from some large guns in his courtyard, and entertained with a party of dancing girls and musicians in the usual manner.  Attar of roses and ’pan’[10] were given, and valuable shawls put before me, and refused in the politest terms I could think of; such as, ’Pray do me the favour to keep these things for me till I have the happiness of visiting Jhansi again, as I am going through Gwalior, where nothing valuable is a moment safe from thieves’.  After sitting an hour, I mounted my elephant, and proceeded up to the castle, where I was received with another salute from the bastions.  I sat for half an hour in the hall of audience with the minister and all the principal men of the court, as Raghunath Rao was to be considered as a private gentleman till the decision of the Supreme Government should be made known; and the handsome lad, Krishan Rao, whom the old woman wished to adopt, and whom I had often seen at Sagar, was at my request brought in and seated by my side.  By him I sent my message of condolence to the widow and mother of his deceased uncle, couched in the usual terms—­ that the happy effects of good government in the prosperity of this city, and the comfort and happiness of the people, had extended the fame of the family all over India; and that I trusted the reigning member of that family, whoever he might be, would be sensible that it was his duty to sustain that reputation by imitating the example of those who had gone before him.  After attar of roses and pan had been handed round in the usual manner, I went to the summit of the highest tower in the castle, which commands an extensive view of the country around.