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 under the cover of the palm trees. The man was indeed young by appearance. He did not wear a beard or a moustache. His hairs were rather black and his eyes rather dark for an Englishman. He was very gaudily dressed, and there was indeed a good exhibition of chain, ring and other like decorations.

He slowly came up to the ghat, and drawing near the water, said, "I come again, fair lady."

Shaibalini.  I don't understand your jargon.

Foster.  Oh-ay that nasty gibberish—I must speak it, I suppose. Ham again ayahaya (I come again).

Shaibalini.  Why? Is this the way to Yama's* gate?

The Englishman failing to understand her asked, "Keya bolta haya?" (What do you say, lady?)

Shaibalini.  I say, has Yama forgotten you?

Foster.  Yama! John you mean? I am not John, I am Lawrence.

Shaibalini.  It is good after all, I have learnt an English word.—Lawrence means monkey.

In that late hour of the evening, Lawrence Foster thus ridiculed by Shaibalini returned to his own place.