soubahdar should retain it as hereditary rajah on the annual payment
of twenty-four thousand rupees. This so-called rajah, Ramchund Rao,
died without issue in 1835. Amid great disputes as to the succession
the British arbitrators finally decided in favor of Rugonath Rao; but
new quarrels straightway arose, a great cry being made that Rugonath
Rao was a leper, and that a leper ought not to be a rajah. His death
in some three years settled that difficulty, only to open fresh
ones among the conflicting claimants. These perplexing questions the
British finally concluded quite effectually by assuming charge of the
government themselves, though this was attended with trouble, for the
stout old mother of Ramchund Rao made armed resistance from the fort
or castellated residence of the rajahs, which stands on its great
rock overlooking the town of Jhansi. A commission finally decreed the
succession to Baba Gunghadar Rao, but retained the substantial power
until the revenues had recovered from the depression consequent upon
these anarchic disturbances.

[Illustration: BURIAL PLACE OF THE RAJAHS OF JHANSI.]

"At any rate," I said as Bhima Gandharva finished this narrative while
we were walking about the burial-place of the rajahs of Jhansi, and
occupying ourselves with tracing the curious admixture of Moslem with
Hindu architecture presented by the tombs, "these rajahs, if they
loved each other but little in life, appear to have buried each other
with proper enough observances: the cenotaphs are worthy of tenderer
remembrances."

"Yes," he said: "this part of India is everywhere a land of beautiful
tombs which enclose ugly memories. I recall one tomb, however, near
which I have spent many hours of tranquil meditation, and which is