Evidence came somewhat unexpectedly to disprove part of Kulmuck's

statement, but nothing positive to connect either him or his master with

the murder. The evidence alluded to was my brother's report of his

examination of cloth, knife, and blood washed off his hand. Each of

these had been carefully examined chemically. Albumen, fibrin, and iron

were shown to be present. Thus the chemical tests agreed with and

confirmed the evidence afforded by the sensible tests--_i.e._, the

sight, the odour, and the taste. These were decisive as to the presence

of blood. But what blood? This was the question. Fortunately my brother

possessed a good Smith and Beck microscope, and by means of the

micrometer he adjusted precisely the magnifying power he employed. Then

placing on a thin slide a minute portion of the matter stated to be

_shark's_ blood, the rolls of circular discs like those of _human_ blood

were evident; their diameter was also like that of human blood. Still,

as the blood discs of some other animals resemble those of human blood

very closely, it was scarcely safe to pronounce absolutely that the

stains and clots were those of human blood. My brother simply stated

their close resemblance to those of human blood, while at the same time

he pronounced absolutely that they were not those of shark's blood. When

this report had been read, the native Sheristadar, an intelligent and

respectable Brahmin, asked permission of the Judge to inquire publicly

of my brother how he was able to pronounce so decisively that the

blood-stains were not those of the shark. In reply, my brother asked

permission of the Judge to go home and fetch his microscope. This was at

once granted. He also requested that during his absence a little shark's

blood might be procured, if possible. As this might not be procurable

until the next morning, it was arranged that my brother should be at the

Court on the morrow at 10 a.m., and that the Sheristadar with the

shark's tail, or any part from which a few drops of blood could be

obtained, should be there at that time. Mr. H. also promised to be

present shortly after the hour named. Next day, my brother with his

microscope, and the Sheristadar with two fishermen and a whole

shovel-nosed shark, were present in Court; and before my brother had set

up or arranged the instrument, Mr. H. appeared.

The breathless anxiety and curiosity of the natives--I may say of

everyone in Court--to see the microscopic experiment, can scarcely be

described. The great majority of the natives looked on the whole thing

as a kind of jadoo, or performance of magic; still, their curiosity was

extreme. As soon as my brother had found the right focus of the

instrument, he pulled out one of the hairs of his head, and placed it on

a slide in the feet of the instrument, and then made the Sheristadar and

one or two other natives in the Court observe it. Having thus convinced

them of the power of the apparatus, and excited their wonder, he placed

with the point of a needle on another slide a very minute portion of

shark's blood. This, when sufficiently attenuated, showed the form and

shape of the blood globules distinctly. My brother then requested the

Judge to look at them. He did so, and was much gratified at being able

to distinguish their form so clearly. After the Judge, the Sheristadar,

the head writer (Mr. Pereira), and two or three others, looked at the

shark's blood and saw the globules. All agreed that they were oval in

shape, and not round. Then a little human blood, shown in the same way,

was examined by the same persons, and all agreed that the globules were

round, and not oval; and all were extremely pleased and gratified. Then

a minute portion of the blood on the toddy knife was examined, and

everyone perceived that the discs were round, and in rolls, just like

the human blood that had been examined just before. The same opinion was

given of blood taken from the cloth, and from the hand. Thus it was

proved, beyond the possibility of doubt, that the statement of Kulmuck

was false; and that the blood on the knife, and on the cloth, and also

that from his hand, was not the blood of a shark. Mr. H. was delighted,

and, after some compliments to my brother, said, 'You have rendered us

an essential service.' The Sheristadar and all in Court were in a state

of excitement and exaltation that cannot well be described. They seemed

almost inclined to make a little deity of my brother, and their words

were those of extravagant praise.

Before my brother left the Court, while talking with Mr. H., he asked

him if he had examined the lady who, after all, seemed to be the cause

of this crime. He said he had not done so for several reasons. It was,

in the first place, unusual, and repugnant to the feelings of the

natives, to bring native ladies into a court of justice; and, secondly,

her dwelling was out of his district. 'Nevertheless,' returned my

brother, 'in a case of such importance, I would overrule the native

prejudices.' 'I will think it over,' said the Judge; and then they

parted. The next day the Zillah Judge drove over to the Circuit Judge's

house, and asked his opinion regarding the best course to be adopted

towards the widow of the murdered man, who, it was said, was a Persian

lady of good family, and who was, moreover, highly educated and

accomplished, understood several Oriental languages, spoke English

tolerably well, knew even something of French, and could read and write

the Persian, Arabic, and Hindustani. She was also said to excel in

music. 'If,' said Mr. V., 'this account be true, she must be a wonder;

and if her personal charms correspond to her mental attainments, she

must be a most bewitching creature, and quite equal to the far-famed

Nour Jehan.' 'I hear,' said Mr. H., 'from my Sheristadar, who knows one

of her female attendants, that she is surpassingly lovely, with a

faultless figure, and silken tresses that she can sit on; she has the

most beautiful eyes in the world.'

'Upon my word,' observed Mr. V., 'your informant has painted a most

enchanting picture. I feel quite envious and grieved that I'm not the

Zillah Judge. You cannot surely drag such a superlative creature into

Court; you will have to take your Court to her. Pray don't do it

personally, or perhaps Mrs. H. might not be pleased; but under any

circumstances you must write officially to have our permission in this

case of difficulty, and I am sure A. and H. will concur with me in the

precept for you to proceed to her house or castle, and to take down her

deposition, if she has anything to state.'

Mr. H. accordingly sent in the official letter asking the opinion of the

Circuit Judges, which was unanimous, and found expression in a precept

directing Mr. H. to proceed to the lady's house with as little delay as

possible. On receipt of the precept Mr. H. sent a mounted peon with a

letter to the widow of Lutchmon Sing, asking politely if it would be

convenient for her to make such statements as the ends of justice

demanded, or, if she had no statement to make, to answer such questions

as it might be needful to put to her in reference to her present

unhappy position, Mr. H. adding that, to save her feelings as much as

possible, he would not ask her to attend at the Court, but would

himself, with his writers and needful subordinates, attend at her house,

and there take down her deposition. In reply to this letter, Mr. H.

received a beautifully written note in Persian to the effect that Aminè,

the wife of the late Lutchmon Sing, would be ready to see the Zillah

Judge whenever he might think proper to pay her a visit, and would

answer any questions he might put to her. She moreover begged the Judge

to receive her grateful thanks for sparing her appearance in Court.

The next forenoon, about 10 a.m., Mr. H. and his subordinates, who had

left Tollicherry by 7 p.m. the evening previous, reached the lady's

house. They found a sumptuous breakfast prepared for them, both in the

European and native fashion, while the lady's butler attended to wait on

them with a dozen servants. Before the Judge sat down to table, a female

servant presented him with another note, begging him to excuse her

absence until the business of the Court called for it, her sorrow and

the Eastern customs being, she hoped, sufficient to extenuate any

apparent want of hospitality. She added that she had given strict orders

to her butler, and to all her people, to supply anything and everything

that might be called for. When the Judge had finished breakfast, and his

subordinates had done ample honour to an excellent collation of curries,

pillaus, etc., etc., Mr. H. was shown into a large apartment or hall,

with a paved courtyard and fountain which fell into a small tank or

basin. The whole space was well covered in, so that the sunbeams could

not directly penetrate, while open verandas all round gave abundance of

light. In this courtyard Mr. H. established his Court, and here, shortly

after he had announced that he was prepared, the lovely widow of poor

Lutchmon Sing made her appearance. An elegant cushion or settee had

already been placed opposite to that of the Judge for her accommodation.

As soon as she entered the hall she made a profound obeisance to the

Judge, crossing her arms on her bosom. The whole Court, including the

Judge, rose up on the lady's entrance, and he, returning her obeisance,

requested her to occupy the cushion prepared for her. She did so, at the

same time so arranging her veil that she only showed her face partially,

yet sufficiently to enable her to converse or reply to questions without

difficulty. Enough of the breathing picture was, however, disclosed to

excite profound admiration, and to charm everyone present. The

administration of the Mussulman oath, usual inquiries as to name,

station, dwelling-place, etc., having been answered in a sad though

sweet voice, Mr. H. asked if the witness knew of any circumstance that

could help him to fix the crime on any particular individual. The same

sad, sweet voice replied that a thick-set, powerfully made man, whom she

would recognise if she saw again, had on two occasions, when her husband

was absent, endeavoured to force an entrance into her house. This man

was at the head of a score or more armed men, and he would on both

occasions have obtained an entrance had not the noise and scuffle at the

outer gate given her servants time to secure the main entrance, every

other means of entering being always barred. On both attempts some shots

and sword-cuts were exchanged, but no lives were lost, though some men

on both sides were wounded. The leader, after the last attempt had

failed, had used the most horrid language, had threatened to have the

life blood of every man in the place, and particularly that of Lutchmon

Sing. She and several of her servants had heard these threats; she had,

though at some risk, seen the man who used these words, having observed

him through an iron grating, while her head and face were enveloped in

a dark cambly, so that she could not be known or scarcely seen by those

outside.

A day or two after these men had departed, her husband had returned, and

she had informed him of all that had happened in his absence. 'He knew

at once who it was that had attacked his house; he also told me the

object of it, and of the vile and singular customs obtaining amongst his

countrymen. I became dreadfully alarmed, and entreated him not to go

about alone. I foresaw what would be likely to happen, and told him that

such a desperate and determined ruffian as this man, whom he called Saul

Jan, would have him murdered, if he were not himself the murderer.' The

lady's statements were carefully taken down, and signed by herself and

the Judge; then several of the servants of the house were examined, and

their testimony confirmed that of the lady. They also said that they

should know the leader of the band--the man who had used the threats and

the bad language--if they saw him again. This evidence was also taken

down and signed and countersigned. Mr. H. prepared to then take his

departure. After many compliments, thanking the bereaved wife not merely

for her kindness and hospitality to himself and whole Court, but for the

clear and collected manner in which she had given her testimony, he

declared that under such painful conditions her conduct was truly

admirable. As he made his bow before getting into his palankeen he said:

'It is a pity that your husband did not take your advice.'

Aminè, now that the examination was over, had for a time yielded to her

sorrow: her head was bowed upon her bosom, her tears were falling fast,

and her women were doing what they could to soothe and console her; but

when she heard Mr. H.'s remark, she stood up at once, and said, 'Sir,

my husband was a brave man, and despised the threats of such a villain

as this Saul Jan. As he said himself, he would not be prevented from

going about for any man's threats; he was as brave and noble as the

other was cowardly and base. But,' clasping her hands and looking up to

heaven with her beautiful eyes streaming with tears, she said, 'Allah is

great, and what He ordains, we, His creatures, must endure.' She then,

with a queenly inclination of her head, retired to her own apartments.

Mr. H. thought he had never seen such a beautiful creature--so quiet, so

sensible, and so self-controlled while she had to give her evidence; so

sensitive, so full of grief, and yet so full of fire for him she had

loved and lost.

The reader may perhaps wish to know what eventually became of this

beautiful and unhappy lady. Her husband on his marriage had made her

heir, in case of his death, of all he possessed. As soon as she could

obtain purchasers for her lands and tenements, and various kinds of

property, she returned to Persia. From the time of her husband's murder,

up to the time of her departure for her own country, she never either

saw or spoke to any one of the numerous suitors who endeavoured in every

possible way to pay court and worship to her.

After her return to Persia, she so arranged her worldly possessions as

to leave herself but a third part of her income; the larger she expended

in charities to the sick and poor, whom she visited daily. A certain

portion of her means she expended in building a handsome tomb, standing

in an extensive garden of roses and other sweet-smelling flowers. By

means of reservoirs and basins, fountains were always throwing water;

and by means of marble conduits for irrigation, and a score of

gardeners, everything was preserved in the most perfect order.

Before she quitted Tollicherry, she had obtained possession of the

mangled remains of her husband, and had them embalmed, all but the

heart; this she had so burnt, under the guidance of an able chemist,

that the form of the organ only remained in the substance of a thin kind

of charcoal. The embalmed body she placed in a marble coffin or

sarcophagus, on which she placed, in an exquisitely carved marble vase

or urn, the representative atoms of her lover's heart. On the top of the

block of black marble that supported her husband's remains, and close

beside it, she placed an empty coffin and an empty vase. In this tomb

Aminè spent a large portion of her time, not only in prayer, nor even in

indulging her incurable sorrow, but in communing with her own soul, and

in striving, by reading and study, to school herself to suffer with

uncomplaining fortitude. Her garden and her flowers, when the heat would

permit, afforded her, morning and evening, some resource. Her large

charities, her embroidery with her maidens, and sometimes her lute,

enabled her to bear existence for some few years; but the shock she had

experienced had been more than she could long bear. She pined away

daily, and at last sunk down, without any special disease, to die. She

evidently rejoiced at her release from sorrow, and the last words she

breathed were, 'I shall now go to fill the vacant space beside my lord.'

She had, long before, repeatedly enjoined her people that, after burning

her heart without access of air, the charcoal left should be placed with

that of her husband, which injunction was held sacred, and was carried

out to the letter. She died equally beloved and lamented by all around

her, rich and poor, and was long remembered as the broken flower of

Persia. Around the tomb where lie the relics of this unhappy pair

innumerable small lamps are ever burning, and every day at sunrise young

Persian maidens deck the double urns with flowers.

We now return to Tollicherry, where Saul Jan and Kulmuck lie under

sentence of death. After the identification of Saul Jan as the leader of

the attacks on the distant house of Lutchmon Sing, the circumstantial

evidence was so strong, and so completely confirmatory of the previous

suspicions, that it may be said no one entertained the slightest moral

doubt as to the guilt of these two men.

Still, the one link in the evidence was wanting; the perpetration of the

murder was not actually brought home to these ruffians. This evidence

was obtained in rather a singular and unlooked-for way. One day, about 3

p.m., just after my brother had dined, he was called into his veranda to

attend to a low-caste Moplah man, who, in consequence of drinking, had

fallen from a toddy-tree, and had smashed the upper arm close up to the

joint. The destruction of the soft parts, and the splintering of the

bone, were so terrible that there could be no chance of saving the man's

life unless the limb was removed at the shoulder-joint. This was clear;

but how was it to be done? The practised operators at our hospitals in

England have trained and skilful assistants to control a large vessel or

take up a smaller one, or render aid in any way that can be wanted. My

brother had no one to assist him except a poor half caste Portuguese,

who had never seen an operation in his life. He was willing, but could

do no more than steady or support the crushed arm or hand as occasion

required. This being so, and the man having in a great measure been

sobered by the fright and the fall, and his nervous system not having

suffered as much as might have been expected, my brother determined to

operate at once. In order to secure the main artery (the brachial), my

brother first passed a curved needle, armed with strong silk thread,

from the anterior part of the wound close to that portion of the

splintered bone near to the socket, and carried the needle and the

ligature between the bone and the vessels and great nerves, and brought

out the point through the integument so as to include about

three-quarters of an inch in breadth. Over this, by means of the handle

and the point of the needle, the ligature was turned backward and

forwards, in the shape of a figure of eight, with sufficient firmness to

restrain hæmorrhage completely. This having been effected, my brother

rapidly removed the limb, having only to tie two vessels--the anterior

and posterior circumflex; but still he was in considerable difficulty as

to where he should get his covering--or, as it is termed professionally,

his _flap_--from. He had tied the main vessel _secundem artem_ before he

removed the temporary control, and had then completed the removal of the

limb. Then he cut from the severed limb a portion of the uninjured

muscular tissue and integument sufficient, with part of the deltoid

muscle and integument, to form the required covering. The case did well;

union by the first intention took place between the portions of the

deltoid and the piece cut from the inner and back part of the upper arm.

My brother kept the man in his own house for about a fortnight, and was

very kind to him. The rude creature felt this, and knew that my brother

had saved his life; so, before he was discharged, he asked to speak with

him privately. My brother turned the servants out of the room, and then

told him to speak freely.

'Nay, Saib; master has kept my life for me this time; but if I tell

master, will master save me again?'

At first my brother thought the man wanted to beg something, and it was

some time before he found out that his patient was really afraid to say

what he desired, unless protection could be assured to him. He

repeatedly said: 'Master no take care, those people kill me.'

'Nonsense,' said my brother, 'what are you afraid of? Those people, who

are those people?'

'My people, the Moplah people.'

A ray of light at once shot across my brother's mind. 'Then,' said he,

'you have something to tell me about Lutchmon Sing's murder?' The man

nodded his head, but did not speak.

'What, Timbuckjee, you don't mean, I hope, that you had anything to do

with that!'

'No, Saib, nothing at all; but I see something.'

'You see something! what do you mean? let me hear.'

'No, Saib, master never tell keep my life, how can I tell master?'

'I can't keep your life, but the Judge can if you give evidence that

will enable him to punish these bad men.'

'Nay, Saib, master promise, then I tell Master Judge. I not know him; he

perhaps no remember.'

'Well, Timbuckjee, I will see the Judge and get his promise, or I will

try to get it.'

'Master Judge give promise in writing, then he no forget. He give word

promise he perhaps no remember.'

My brother could not help smiling at the caution and cunning of Mr.

Timbuckjee; but as the matter was of such importance he wrote a note at

once to Mr. H., stating that he had reason to believe that the man who

had fallen from the toddy-tree, and had so crushed his arm, could say

something that would enable him to convict the murderers of Lutchmon

Sing; but that the man was in such fear of the Moplah people that he

refused to speak unless he, the Judge, would grant him a written promise

to protect him.

After some delay Mr. H. went to my brother's house and saw Timbuckjee.

But he seemed little inclined to make any statement of any value, till a

native vakeel was sent for, who, after a great deal of trouble, at last

made him understand that if he gave evidence to enable the law to act

the law would protect him.

At last Mr. H. said: 'If I give you a belt, and make you one of the

Zillah Court peons, will that content you?'

'Yes, Saib, that will keep my life. You give me belt, and make me peon

of your Court; they never kill me. Yes, I will tell.' He then went on to

say, that on the very day Lutchmon Sing was killed, he, Timbuckjee, was

following his business tapping palms, for which purpose he had climbed

up a lofty tree, and was engaged fastening an empty chatty to the part

which he had incised. When he had finished his work he was about to

descend, but he did not do so, having observed two men at some little

distance off, standing at the foot of another lofty palm, engaged in

earnest conversation. He soon recognised the men in question to be Saul

Jan and Kulmuck. Concealed as he was by the leaves and branches, and

remaining perfectly still, he himself remained wholly unobserved, while

he had a full opportunity of watching all that passed between the men

named. He was not near enough to hear anything, but judging from their

behaviour it seemed to him that Saul Jan was urging Kulmuck to accede to

some proposition that had previously been made to him, but to which he

steadily refused to consent. At last he seemed to yield, and then he

held out his hand, into which Saul Jan counted 20 Rs.; these Kulmuck

tied up, after again counting them, in a corner of his cloth, and then

parted from Saul Jan, who took the way to his own house, while Kulmuck

also went to his hut, where he remained about half an hour; then he left

it and returned to the jungle. Timbuckjee did not dare to follow Kulmuck

too nearly lest he should be discovered, but he kept him in sight till

he entered the path that led to Lutchmon Sing's dwelling. There he lost

sight of him. In about an hour he again saw Kulmuck, running in the

direction of the hut where he remained to drink, and where he was found

with his bloody cloth and knife. While he was running Timbuckjee

observed that his cloth was stained.

This statement, having been sworn to after the Moplah fashion, was taken

down, and Timbuckjee made to vouch for its truth by affixing his mark to

it. The Judge then countersigned it. Now as no money had been found on

Kulmuck's person when he was captured, it was clear that he must have

deposited it somewhere else, and if Timbuckjee's story was true, he had

been nowhere, after having received the blood-money from Saul Jan, but

to his own hut; consequently, then, the rupees should be found there.

To Kulmuck's hut therefore at once went the Judge, my brother, several

subordinates of the Court, a _posse_ of peons, and some coolies with

mattocks and picks. The whole floor of the hut was examined without

discovering any sign of earth having been recently turned up;

nevertheless it was dug up all over without avail. The whole of the

compound was then treated in the same way, still without finding

anything: doubt was beginning to attach to Timbuckjee's statement, when

someone said: 'Try the roof.' In less than two minutes afterwards there

was a shout, and one of the peons drew forth from the thatch a piece of

rag evidently containing rupees. The little parcel was immediately

handed to the Judge, who opened it before all present, and counted out

the number of rupees which Timbuckjee had seen Saul Jan count out to

Kulmuck.

The Humour and Pathos of Anglo-Indian Life Extracts from his brother's note-book, made by Dr. Ticklemore · 第 17 / 20 段