for a tooth, is the doctrine of his Prophet, which he trembles at while he believes.--And Ameer Ali is a Bhula Admee even in the eyes of his jailers; a respectable man, a religious man, one who from his youth up has said his Namaz five times a day, is most devout in his life and conduct, is most particular in his ablutions, keeps the fast of the Ramzan and every saint's day in his calendar, dresses in green clothes in the Mohorum, and beats his breast and tears his hair as a good Syud of Hindostan ought to do; in short, he performs the thousand and one ceremonies of his religion, and believes himself as sure of heaven and all the houris promised there as he now is of a good dinner. And yet Ameer Ali is a murderer, one before whom every murderer of the known world, in times past or present,--except perhaps some of his own profession, the free bands of Germany, the Lanzknechts, the Banditti, Condottieri, of Italy, the Buccaneers and Pirates, and in our own time the fraternity of Burkes and Hares (a degenerate system of Thuggee, by the bye, at which Ameer Ali, when I told him of them, laughed heartily, and said they were sad bunglers)--must be counted men of small account. Reader, these thoughts were passing in my mind, when at last I cried aloud, "Pshaw! 'tis vain to attempt to account for it, but Thuggee seems to be the offspring of fatalism and superstition, cherished and perfected by the wildest excitement that ever urged human beings to deeds at which humanity shudders." "Did Khodawund call?" said a bearer, who had gradually nodded to sleep as he was pulling the punkah above my head, and who was roused by my exclamation. "Did the Sahib call?" "No, Boodun, I did not; but since you are awake, bid some one bring me a chilum. My nerves require to be composed." CHAPTER XXV. At the expiration of a week Ameer Ali sent word to me that he was ready to resume his narrative, and I lost no time in requesting him to repair to my residence. He arrived, and making his usual graceful obeisance, I desired him to be seated.