i6r
suite. I lunched with him two or three times and
it made me sad to see his solemn, immovable,
cheerless face which looked like a mask ; there was
no life in it and no expression, and he hardly spoke
a word. After sitting in the drawing room for a
few minutes in complete silence, patting his pug
dogs, he used to go into the dining room accom-
panied by his guests, and there at the lunch table
he would sit silent as before. When the meal was
over, the company would walk back to the drawing
room, sit there for a few minutes and then break
up. He was overwhelmed by some great sorrow,
as all could see ; and I, who knew a little of his
previous history, could guess that it must be
remorse or regret at having incurred the lasting
displeasure of his master. After his return to
India he spent some months at Poona, and at last
when he returned to Hyderabad, he did not live in
the city, but at Bolarum. His health had broken
down and he was eagerly awaiting his death ; and
died at the early age of 27 or 28.^ ,„
His career had been full of promise, because he
had a brilliant intellect and a prodigious memory,
and was an eloquent speaker. I have heard from
Sir Faridoon Mulk, who had been his Private and
Political Secretary at one time, that the young
Salar Jung once on a railway journey borrowed
the poems of Byron from him and began to read
t" The Prisoner of CMlon. " After an hour or so
hie~gave him back the book and repeated nearly a
jwhole canto !
V- - j I once heard him-make an after-dinner speech ;
11