ally renewed. If the assassin meets the
scaffold in his career, he dies with the enthusiasm of a martyr, because
he expects his reward. To obey his divine mistress, he murders, without
anger and without remorse, the old man, woman and child; whilst, to his
fellow-religionists, he may be charitable, humane, generous, devoted, and
may share all in common with them, because, like himself, they are the
ministers and adopted children of Bowanee. The destruction of his
fellow-creatures, not belonging to his community--the diminution of the
human race--that is the primary object of his pursuit; it is not as a
means of gain, for though plunder may be a frequent, and doubtless an
agreeable accessory, it is only secondary in his estimation. Destruction
is his end, his celestial mission, his calling; it is also a delicious
passion, the most captivating of all sports--this hunting of men!--'You
find great pleasure,' said one of those that were condemned, 'in tracking
the wild beast to his den, in attacking the boar, the tiger, because
there is danger to brave, energy and courage to display. Think how this
attraction must be redoubled, when the contest is with man, when it is
man that is to be destroyed. Instead of the single faculty of courage,
all must be called into action--courage, cunning, foresight, eloquence,
intrigue. What springs to put in motion! what plans to develop! To sport
with all the passions, to touch the chords of love and friendship, and so
draw the prey into one's net--that is a glorious chase--it is a delight,
a rapture, I tell you!'

"Whoever was in India in the years 1831 and 1832, must remember the
stupor and affright, which the discovery of this vast infernal machine
spread through all classes of society. A great number of magistrates and
administrators of provinces refused to believe in it, and could not be
brought to comprehend that such a system had so long preyed on the body
politic, under their eyes as it were, silently, and without betraying
itself."--See "British India in 183," by Count Edward de Warren, 2 vols.
in 8vo. Paris, 1844.--E. S.

CHAPTER XXII.

THE AMBUSCADE

The half-blood Faringhea, wishing doubtless to escape from the dark
thoughts which the words of the Indian on the mysterious course of the
Cholera had raised within him, abruptly changed the subject of
conversation. His eye shone with lurid fire, and his countenance took an
expression of savage enthusiasm, as he cried: "Bowa