you directly, sir, if you're not off."

"No! don't kill Billy," observed Courtenay; "it's bad enough to have
murdered Shakespeare. Well, but now, it's my opinion, that we ought to
employ this fellow--and take the advice that has been given to us in
this book."

Courtenay's proposal was assented to, and on his return, Hommajee Baba
was installed in office.

The next morning, Seymour, Courtenay, and Macallan went on shore to meet
an old acquaintance of the latter, who had called upon him on his
arrival. By his advice they left the ship before the sun had risen,
that they might be enabled to walk about, and view the town and its
environs, without being incommoded by the heat. They reached the long
plain close to the sea, upon which the admiral and many others,
according to the custom of the English inhabitants, were residing in
capacious tents; not such tents as have been seen in England, but
impervious to the heat and rain, covering a large extent of ground,
divided into several apartments, and furnished like any other residence.
The broad expanse of ocean, which met their view, was unruffled, and
the beach was lined with hundreds, standing on their carpets, spread
upon the sand, with their faces turned toward the east. As the sun rose
in splendour above the horizon, they all prostrated themselves in mute
adoration, and continued in that position until his disk had cleared the
water's edge; they then rose, and throwing a few flowers into the
rippling wave, folded up their carpets and departed.

"Who are those people, and of what religion?" demanded Seymour.

"They are Parsees, a remnant of the ancient Persians--the Guebres, or
worshippers of fire. As you have witnessed, they also adore the sun.
They came here long since to enjoy their tenets, free from persecution.
They are the most intelligent race that we have. Many of them were
princes in their own country, and are now men of unbounded wealth. They
have their temples here, in which the sacred fire is never permitted to
go out. If, by any chance or negligence, it should become extinct, it
must be relighted from heaven alone. We have no lightning here, and
they send to Calcutta, where there is plenty at the change of the
monsoon, and bring it round with great ceremony."

"In other points, are their customs different from the Hindoos?"

"Yes; their women are not so immured; you will meet plenty of them when
you return to town. They are easily distinguish