At length, after doing this a great many times, a light appeared in the door of the bungalow; and a few minutes afterwards the figure of my friend the planter became visible descending the hill upon which his house was situated, and coming armed with a big stick to see what evil spirits were in possession of his tea-house. Very much surprised was he when he found there was a lady in the case, and not a little disconcerted over his own appearance, as he was not clad in raiment suitable to the entertaining of female visitors. I was much too tired, however, to notice whether he was got up for the occasion or not, and he seemed a perfect godsend to us both after all we had gone through. He soon took us up to his house, and in half an hour gave us dinner. Real dinner, too—not a shadowy make-belief; but soup, entrée, and joint, just as though we had come by invitation, and this had been the result of some days’ preparation. How we did eat! There was little doubt that we appreciated the excellent fare set before us, and at the end of it I felt a different being. Our friend the planter had meanwhile got himself up regardless of expense, and offered to drive me into Sylhet, an offer which I most gladly accepted, leaving the poor Jabberwock in a comfortable stable, with a large bundle of grass in front of him, which he was too tired to eat. We did not take long to get over the four miles to Sylhet, where I bade farewell to the planter and Mr. A⸺, who returned with him to the garden. I had the pleasure of lying down on a bed with no bedding, and waiting until my coolies and baggage should arrive, with part of my muddy habit rolled up to serve for a pillow; and very well I slept for three good hours, when at two o’clock in the morning my goods and chattels commenced dropping in, and I was able to go to bed in real, sober earnest. Next morning the Jabberwock arrived, looking rather miserable, with a very large swelling on his leg, and a bad girthgall; so there was no possibility of our continuing our journey that day, as the servants all said they were dying, and could not move on at any price. However, the day following they had recovered sufficiently to proceed another fifteen miles; and after three more days I arrived at Cachar, where I found my husband, who had come down from Manipur to meet me. CHAPTER IX. Return to Manipur—Mr. Heath’s grave—Old Moonia—A quarrel and fight between Moonia and the Chupprassie’s wife—Dignity of the Chupprassies—The Senaputti gets up sports—Manipuri greetings and sports.