Next to the Circuit Judges comes the Zillah Judge, who was also a married man; consequently, to his house the hakim's palkee wended its way in due course. He found this lady so rigid in her religious opinions that she would not allow of any difference. On making this discovery he congratulated himself that she did not possess the power to enforce conformity; visions of solitary cells, bread and water, and other more dreadful pains and penalties, forcing themselves on his mind. Her husband seemed to be so far in leading strings as to have no opinions except those held by his wife; though, independent of this little weakness, he was very probably a good and estimable man. The expression of this gentleman's countenance was, however, usually so lugubrious and unhappy that my brother observed, when speaking of him: 'If his religion has the effect of making him as miserable as the expression of his features indicates, I very much doubt if it be the true religion,' and certainly the Zillah Judge's melancholy face did _countenance_ such an opinion. It is now time to speak of Mr. G., the sub-collector, who was as unlike Mr. H., the Zillah Judge, as it is possible for one man to be unlike another. Mr. G., to begin with, had no wife to save him the trouble of thinking on important matters, and was as good-humoured, jolly, and generous, as the other was melancholy and penurious. He was, moreover, as fond of fun as the other was fearful of it. H., in short, was a killjoy, and G. was a lovejoy. The consequence of these differences was that H. was not, generally speaking, a particular favourite, and G. was. The list of officials closes, I think, with the Master-Attendant, or Bunder-Major, as he was popularly termed. This old gentleman had been captain of a merchant vessel, and was therefore, by courtesy, always called Captain B. He was a red-faced, jolly-looking old tar, really good-natured and kind-hearted, but one who murdered his mother tongue at times in rather a determined manner. The letter V seemed to be particularly obnoxious to him. When speaking of a gentleman named Vaughan, he called him 'Waughan.' Or when speaking of several articles of different qualities, he expressed himself thus: 'Oh, there was a many on 'em of wery warious qualities!' The poor man had evidently come from before the mast, but he had the manliness not to deny it, or be ashamed of it; and he was, despite the murders he perpetrated daily, a sort of privileged character, and to a certain extent a favourite.