This and a good deal more, as explained to me by Mrs. Delaval, was the rambling defence of Khoda Buccas, coachmaun. The old gentleman seemed disposed to admit its sufficiency; but madame peremptorily ordered off the unhappy charioteer, with the comfortable assurance that he should be flogged and dismissed. Oh, tyranny, thou propensity of ungenerous souls! like Othello’s love, thou growest with indulgence; till, like to every other evil, thou at last evokest the spirit that lays thee low! Well, the storm at last having fairly subsided, the general hobbled to the couch, and took up a paper, as if glad for a season to retreat within himself. Mrs. Delaval and I carried on a conversation in an under-tone, whilst Mrs. Capsicum in silence digested her choler. The silence was interrupted by the entrance of a native servant, who, with closed hands, and in a manner profoundly respectful, said something in an under-tone to the beebee sahib. “Ginrel Capsicum,” said Mrs. C., as the servant withdrew, “here is your son Augustus arrived.” “Is he?” said the old general, jumping up and throwing down the paper; “faith, then, I’m glad of it, and ye haven’t told me a pleasanter thing for a long time, my deer.” These words were scarcely uttered, when a dark black-whiskered man, of a frank and ingenuous countenance, with a hunting-cap on his head, and a whip in his hand, entered the room, and running up to the old general and seizing his extended hand in both his own, in a manner which bespoke genuine warmth and affection, exclaimed: “How are you, sir? quite recovered, I hope, from your last attack?” “Well, my boy, well!” said the general, his eyes sparkling with pleasure as he measured his stalwart dark offspring from head to foot, as if in some doubt as to whether he could really be the sire of such a brawny chiel. “Well! and right glad to see you here; how did you come?” “Why, I left the factory early this morning, sir,” said “Disgustus;” “came on as far as the Budlampore ghaut in the pinnace; from that I drove the buggy down to the Thannah, and there I found Golaub in waiting; I rode him in here at a rattling pace—confounded hot work it was, though; and I expect I’ve rather taken the shine out of the Arab.” “That’s well,” said the general, “and now be sated. Augustus, my young friend, Mr. Gernon; Mr. Gernon, my son, Mr. Augustus Capsicum.” I bowed with English formality, but the hearty man of blue did not appear to understand that sort of thing, but came up and shook me by the hand; asked me if I was lately arrived, and said he was glad to see me. This was a pleasing trait, and showed me the frankness of his disposition. After some little conversation with his mother-in-law, with whom it was easy to perceive he was no particular favourite, and a lively chat with his lovely and generous-minded sister, who it was equally obvious loved her dark brother, in spite of the bend sinister in his escutcheon,[13] General Capsicum again addressed his son: