This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1906 edition. Excerpt: … CHAPTER XXIX Pilaghur was at its hottest and emptiest, but the Barfords were all there. So were the Tenth Guzeratis, the District Superintendent of Police, the station doctor, and a few other persons whose work tied them by the leg to the plains, whatever the temperature. Some of their wives were there too–Mrs. Lamb and Mrs. Davidson certainly, and Mrs. Wickham, and others that should be honourably mentioned. And on Thursday afternoon, the thirty-first of May, when the sun withdrew his cruel tooth and the tamarinds threw long shadows across the hard, white roads, and it was possible to drive to the club for the sake of suffering in a different place, behold, the flag shot up from Government House and the guard stood at the gate. So the Chief Commissioner was also there, a sudden and silent appearance from the Hills. It was too hot to be astonished; besides, Pilaghur that was left knew quickly, too quickly, why he had come. Mrs. Lamb, driving in from the Guzerati lines past the gaol had heard the hammering. She said it made her sick. The execution, Thame’s superior show, as Wickham the policeman called it, was to take place as advertised –I still quote Wickham–next morning at six o'clock. So far the Viceroy had not been over-ruled. No word of Royal clemency had come. The strong outcry had had too far to travel. Grindlay Maple had made his protest to no purpose. Lady Waterbrook had apparently gone home in vain. One concession had been made to the special circumstances of the case. The execution remained in the hands of the civil authorities. The regiment was not asked to hang Morgan; the gallows was not going up on the parade ground. The Home Department had insisted, however, that the regiment should witness the hanging– and we…