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to make an inventory of the property of the deceased, and, as such, I must request, sir, that you will not interfere with the authority which has been duly vested in us.' Very good, sir,' said I. Now I understand; but may I ask if you were acquainted with the deceased ?' 'Not one of us,' returned the senior officer; we are in the performance of a strictly military duty'— Which I leave you to perform,” said I, bowing and moving towards the door: 'but I think that a couple of poor Appleby's friends would do it much more satisfactorily. And with this, Peregrine, I walked out. I was wrong, I know I was wrong to have spoken in this way, but I was so annoyed at seeing a parcel of men, who cared no more about Appleby than his table did, interfering in his affairs, and strutting about the room with all imaginable coolness, in the presence too of the corpse. They were only performing a duty, I know, and to them, I dare say, a very disagreeable one; but I could have done it just as well without their interference, and had it been left to me, the chamber of death should not have been desecrated by the presence of these unfeeling, apathetic committee-men. However, the thing was done, the boxes were sealed up, the room locked, and all the property is to be sold. I would buy it myself every bit of it, and his horse too, which they tell me is in the Cooly Bazaar, (which I suppose is an establishment something like the horse bazaar in King.street at home) but the whole extent of my stock in cash amounts to seven rupees, half a sovereign, and a lucky sixpence.”

“Dear me!" exclaimed Peregrine,“ how is that? You surely didn't light your cigar with your letter of credit, as you did with your letters of introduction.”

“Not quite so soft as that," returned Julian, “but the fact is, that 'tis not worth a sous-the people here say not worth a pice. The house has failed, all the houses have failed, and I dare say your agents amongst them.”

"No," said Peregrine, “I am safe; which is a deuced good thing for both of us. If we had been left without any money between the two, it certainly would have been a horrid bad job; but as it is, (I need not tell you to cheer up, for you do not look very much distressed)—as it is, my good fellow, we have plenty between us, so buy the horse and any thing else you like, and I will tell my agents to place half of my money to your credit on their books. Two hundred pounds is more than I can want, so you need not scruple about sharing it with me. My agents are Messrs. Swallow and Newcome, and they live, I don't know what they call the street, but it's somewhere near the square with a pond in it.”

“Just like you, Peregrine,-just like you," retumed Mr. Jenks,“ but you may depend upon it, my good fellow, that you will find plenty to do with

your money; and as for myself, they tell me that I can get an advance of pay whenever I choose to apply for it. Never mind about speaking to the agents, Peregrine; if I want money I shall not scruple to borrow it from you, so you may make yourself easy on that score, and believe me that I feel"

“ Stuff about your feelings," interrupted Peregrine Pultuney. “Have you got a buggy at the door ?"

“ Yes," replied Julian, “I am indulging myself to-day in eight rupees' worth of sun and dust, having just got about enough to pay for it. After this, I must come down to a palankin; but do you feel inclined for a cruise ?”

“Yes," said Peregrine, “by all means. Have you been yet to any of the bazaars?"

“Yes; I am afraid I have to most of them, with Phillimore acting as my guide. What is it you want to do there, you rogue ?"

Peregrine did not exactly see why he should be called a rogue for wanting to go to the bazaar, neither could he very clearly interpret the meaning of the very sly look that Julian gave him, when he asked the above question; but, as his own thoughts were reverting just then to that useful establishment in Soho-square, where ladies go to buy baby-linen and work-boxes, and gentleman go to look at the ladies, he answered with great readiness, “ Why, what do people ever go to bazaars for, but to buy pretty things?”

“Oh! to be sure," returned Julian, “ if you want to buy things, you must go to the China Bazaar. Come along then, I am all ready;" and in less than a minute the two friends were seated in the buggy, and steering down upon the Chowringhee-road.

They had soon passed what Peregrine called the square with a pond in it, and which the inhabitants of Calcutta are wont to designate Tank-square, or the Laul Diggy, and were splitting on at a very tolerable pace, when our hero, perceiving a large house with rather a business-like aspect in front of him, told his companion it was Swallow and Newcome's office and begged him to drive on to it.

This, however, Mr. Jenks refused most positively to do, until he had extorted a promise from Peregrine that the transfer he had spoken of should not be effected—a promise we are bound to say, most reluctantly given, and not given at all without a compromise, upon the part of Julian Jenks, who declared that he would draw upon Peregrine, whenever he needed money. “But now,” said the lastnamed young gentleman, "perhaps you will allow me to draw, upon my own account, let us get a bag of rupees and spend it in the China Bazaar. There are few pleasures equal to that of spending inoney, after an age of self-denial like that, which we were compelled to on board ship. Why, I declare I have spent nothing since the day we bought, between us, that twenty pounds' worth of rubbish at the Cape."

So, in accordance with the philosophy of these

remarks, our hero procured a bag of rupees from Messrs. Swallow and Newcome's, and having re-entered the buggy, Mr. Julian Jenks drove straight if it can be called straight, where there are several turnings, into the old China Bazaar.

Now, to people whose ideas of a bazaar are derived from that very useful establishment in Soho-square, of which honourable mention has already been made, the aspect of an Indian Bazaar must be productive of no small measure of surprise, and perhaps disappointment. A gentleman's park is as much like an Indian jungle as the Soho-square establishment is like an Indian Bazaar. There are trees and grass in both, and there is buying and selling in both; but there the similitude ends.

Peregrine found himself, after alighting from his buggy, for it was impossible to drive on, in an excessively narrow street, with an interminable row of small houses on either side, of a very primitive and unarchitectural appearance. The greater number of them were single-storied houses, with a door in the centre, two or three door-steps, no window, and perhaps a board with the name of the shopkeeper and his calling, in Bengalli and English characters, over the door-Gunga Ram Mullick, cabinet-maker; Prossonoo Deb, cloth-seller, or something of that kind. On the door-steps were to be seen, sitting on their haunches or lounging against the wall, the native shopmen in their clean white muslin dresses and neat turbans, inviting

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