guard-room with my friend Frederick Gahagan, the senior Lieutenant in the
regiment to which I belonged, and manager of the amateur theatre of the
station.

Gahagan was a rattling, care-for-nothing Irishman, whose chief
characteristic was a strong propensity for theatricals and practical
jokes, but withal a generous, warm-hearted fellow, and as gallant a
soldier as ever buckled sword-belt. In his capacity of manager, he was at
present in a state of considerable perplexity, the occasion whereof was
this.

There chanced then to be on a visit at Bangalore a particular ally of
Fred's, who was leading tragedian of the Chowringhee theatre in Calcutta;
and it was in contemplation to get up Macbeth, in order that the aforesaid
star might exhibit in his crack part as the hero of that great tragedy.
Fred was to play Macduff; and the "blood-boltered Banquo" was consigned to
my charge. The other parts were tolerably well cast, with the exception of
that of Lady Macbeth, which indeed was not cast at all, seeing that no
representative could be found for it. It must be stated that, as we had no
actresses amongst us, all our female characters, as in the times of the
primitive drama, were necessarily performed by gentlemen. Now in general
it was not difficult to command a supply of smooth-faced young ensigns to
personate the heroines, waiting-maids, and old women, of the comedies and
farces to which our performances had been hitherto restricted. But Lady
Macbeth was a very different sort of person to Caroline Dormer and Mrs.
Hardcastle; and our _ladies_ accordingly, one and all, struck work,
refusing point blank to have anything to say to her.

The unfortunate manager, who had set his heart upon getting up the piece,
was at his wits' end, and had bent his footsteps towards the main guard,