at once lovely without and within: it is the tomb of the Muslim saint
Allum Sayed at Baroda. It was built of stones taken from an old Jain
temple whose ruins are still visible near by; and with a singular
fitness, in view of its material, the Muslim architect has mingled
his own style with the Hindu, so that an elegant union of the keen
and naked Jain asceticism with the mellower and richer fancy of the
luxurious Mohammedan has resulted in a perfect work of that art which
makes death lovely by recalling its spiritual significance. Besides,
a holy silence broods about the cactus and the euphorbian foliage,
so that a word will send the paroquets, accustomed to such unbroken
stillness, into hasty flights. The tomb proper is in the chamber at
the centre, enclosed by delicately-trellised walls of stone. I can
easily fancy that the soul of Allum Sayed is sitting by his grave,
like a faithful dog loath to quit his dead master.

[Illustration: TOMB OF ALLUM SAYED.]

Jhansi was once in the enjoyment of a considerable trade. The caravans
from the Deccan to Furruckabad and other places in the Douab were
in the habit of stopping here, and there was much trafficking in the
cloths of Chanderi and in bows, arrows and spears--the weapons of the
Bundela tribes--which were here manufactured. Remnants of the wealth
then acquired remain; and on the evening of the same day when we were
wandering among the rajahs' tombs we proceeded to the house of a rich
friend of Bhima Gandharva's, where we were to witness a _nautch_, or
dance, executed by a wandering troop of Mewati bayadères. We arrived
about nine o'clock: a servant sprinkled us with rose-water, and we
were ushered into a large saloon, where the bayadères were seated with
a couple of musicians, one of whom played the tam-tam and another
a sort of violin. When the family of our host, together with a few