I forgot to say that Jowler’s wife was a half-caste woman, who had been born and bred entirely in India, and whom the Colonel had married from the house of her mother, a native.  There were some singular rumors abroad regarding this latter lady’s history:  it was reported that she was the daughter of a native Rajah, and had been carried off by a poor English subaltern in Lord Clive’s time.  The young man was killed very soon after, and left his child with its mother.  The black Prince forgave his daughter and bequeathed to her a handsome sum of money.  I suppose that it was on this account that Jowler married Mrs. J., a creature who had not, I do believe, a Christian name, or a single Christian quality:  she was a hideous, bloated, yellow creature, with a beard, black teeth, and red eyes:  she was fat, lying, ugly, and stingy—­she hated and was hated by all the world, and by her jolly husband as devoutly as by any other.  She did not pass a month in the year with him, but spent most of her time with her native friends.  I wonder how she could have given birth to so lovely a creature as her daughter.  This woman was of course with the Colonel when Julia arrived, and the spice of the devil in her daughter’s composition was most carefully nourished and fed by her.  If Julia had been a flirt before, she was a downright jilt now; she set the whole cantonment by the ears; she made wives jealous and husbands miserable; she caused all those duels of which I have discoursed already, and yet such was the fascination of the witch that I still thought her an angel.  I made court to the nasty mother in order to be near the daughter; and I listened untiringly to Jowler’s interminable dull stories, because I was occupied all the time in watching the graceful movements of Miss Julia.

But the trumpet of war was soon ringing in our ears; and on the battle-field Gahagan is a man!  The Bundelcund Invincibles received orders to march, and Jowler, Hector-like, donned his helmet and prepared to part from his Andromache.  And now arose his perplexity:  what must be done with his daughter, his Julia?  He knew his wife’s peculiarities of living, and did not much care to trust his daughter to her keeping; but in vain he tried to find her an asylum among the respectable ladies of his regiment.  Lady Gutch offered to receive her, but would have nothing to do with Mrs. Jowler; the surgeon’s wife, Mrs. Sawbone, would have neither mother nor daughter; there was no help for it, Julia and her mother must have a house together, and Jowler knew that his wife would fill it with her odious blackamoor friends.

I could not, however, go forth satisfied to the campaign until I learned from Julia my fate.  I watched twenty opportunities to see her alone, and wandered about the Colonel’s bungalow as an informer does about a public-house, marking the incomings and the outgoings of the family, and longing to seize the moment when Miss Jowler, unbiassed by her mother or her papa, might listen, perhaps, to my eloquence, and melt at the tale of my love.