in hot weather, so that I grew up strong and
healthy. Some British troops were sent to the same place, under the
command of Captain, now Major Clayton, and thus I was once more united
to my kind friends and young sister. Ellen Barrow was so no longer; she
had become Mrs Northcote; but was the same kind, lively creature as
when I first remembered her. Major and Mrs Clayton had no children of
their own; and they therefore loved my little sister even as if she had
been their infant.

I must not omit to mention an occurrence which happened about this time,
and is well worthy of note. My friends were residing in a sort of fort,
situated on the hills, with a high wall surrounding the habitable
portion. In the hot weather the windows are left entirely open, or are
simply closed with a sort of venetian blind. The crib in which my
sister slept was placed in a large apartment outside Major and Mrs
Clayton's chamber, while beyond it were the sleeping-places of the
nurses and other household domestics. It was used in the day-time as a
sitting-room, and against the wall was a large and handsome mirror, and
from the ceiling hung a lamp, which shed a soft and subdued light upon
it. I am thus particular in describing the scene from the circumstances
which follow. It was an hour or more past midnight, when Major Clayton
was awakened, and from, to him, some unaccountable reason, he could not
again compose himself to sleep. While he lay awake, he fancied that he
heard a slight noise in the adjoining room, and throwing on his
dressing-gown, he rose to discover what could have caused it. Think of
his horror and amazement to see, in the centre of the apartment, as if
about to spring on the cradle where the infant slept, a royal Bengal
tiger of vast size! In a moment it might have seized the child, and
before any human aid could have availed, it might have carried her away
into the wild jungle. He stood almost paralysed, not knowing how to
act. Had he moved to get his pistols from the next room, he might only
have hastened the catastrophe he feared. He looked again; the fierce
animal was lashing its tail and grinding its teeth with rage. Before
its eyes, reflected in the mirror, was its own image, which it had
beheld when just about to spring on its prey. It now stood, every
moment its fury increasing, fancying that another of its species was
there to contest the prize it had come to bear away. The major watched
it with brea