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 the town to see the Governor of Bengal, and loud music and gorgeous processions welcomed him as he entered Birnagar on his stately elephant, surrounded by a small Rajput and Mogul guard. Children sang their welcome in the streets, and women showered fried rice from their balconies. The victor of a hundred fights, the ablest ruler under the Imperial Akbar, Raja Man Singh entered the Palace fitted up for his residence amidst the peal of bombs and the acclamations of a grateful people. And many were the fair faces and curious eyes which peered through latticed windows to see the brave and handsome warriors who surrounded him.

Little business was done for some days, which were spent in festivities. Rajput officers sauntered through the bazaar and streets, and bearded Mogul warriors decked themselves with Bengal scarfs and silks, or purchased the matchless muslins of Dacca for loved ones they had left in their far-off homes.

The day dawned at last when the Imperial Order would be proclaimed, and it was a fine cloudless winter morning. The air was crisp, the sky was blue, and the sun poured its golden radiance on town and bazaar, and on thousands of people who had gathered before the Palace. Raja Man Singh sat on a throne in an open terrace, Imperial officers of high rank and dignity stood around him, and Nobo Kumar and Gokul Das stood behind in humble posture.

The troops marched past. Rajputs and Moguls, whom Man Singh had led from victory to victory in all parts of India, proudly acquitted themselves before their great commander. And some wrestling and racing and feats of strength amused the multitude.