The judge shook me heartily by the hand, and was at once so smiling and cordial, that I began to fancy I must certainly have known him somewhere before, and that this could never be the first of our acquaintance. It was true downright goodness of heart, bursting through the cobwebs of ceremony, and going slap-bang to its purpose. “Well, Mr. Gernon, I’m happy to see you here sound and safe. I hope my sowar piloted you well; how far off have you left your tents?” Having replied to these queries, he again resumed. “When did you hear last from our friend Marpeet? not since I did, I dare say. Come, give your pony to that man, and he’ll take care of him for you.” I resigned my tatoo, who was led off. The judge’s servants smiled, and exchanged significant glances, as my little jaded rat, with accoutrements calculated for a horse of sixteen hands high, was marched away. I confess, for the first time, I felt perfectly ashamed of him. “Come in,” said the judge, “we will dine somewhat earlier on your account; but, in the meantime, as you must be fatigued, a glass of wine will refresh you. _Qui hye? sherry-shrob lou._ By-the-bye,” said he, recollecting himself, as we turned to enter the tent, “I had nearly forgotten to introduce you to a fellow-traveller. Ensign Gernon, the Rev. Mr. Arratoon Bagram Sarkies; Mr. Sarkies, Mr. Gernon.” The little fat man smiled benignantly, as with a look betokening that my youth and deportment had made a pleasing impression upon him, he, in a manner half-Asiatic, tendered me his hand, as if he felt himself bound in duty to back the judge’s cordiality. I was sorely puzzled to divine who this amiable little personage could be, and to what portion of the church universal his reverence belonged. Mr. Sympkin seemed, I thought, to enjoy my gaping looks of astonishment, but took an opportunity of informing me, very shortly afterwards, that Mr. Sarkies was an Armenian missionary, proceeding to Guzerat with a camel load of tracts, in divers Eastern languages, for the purpose of converting the natives. At the same time that he gave me this information, he proposed, if agreeable to me, that we should keep each other company for the few marches during which our route would lie together. To this proposal I joyfully assented, for though the good missionary was not exactly the sort of companion I should have selected, had a choice been given me, nevertheless, an associate of any kind who could speak my own language was, under present circumstances, a great acquisition. Dinner soon made its appearance in the tent, which was fitted up with carpets, glass shades, attached by clasps to the poles, and, in short, everything that could render it comfortable and luxurious, and make us forget that we were in the wilds of Hindostan.