Morning journal and courier., 1886-11-25

Hassan Ali Khan, O. S. l., our agent at Shi
 rag, succeeded in goading the Prince-Gover
 nor, H. R. H. Zil-es Sultan, into trying tn
 prisoners.
 The proceedings were very curious. Ther,
 was no doubt of the guilt of the men, bu | there were no witnesses of the murder. Tn,
 sergeant was dead; his wife and his two ser
 wants had been frightened out of their wits l and the muleteer declared that he could re member nothing. The English in Persit l justly felt that it would be a serious thing te l allow the assassins to escape, and yet ths difficulty Of bringing their suit home to | them in the regular legal way seemed all but | impossible. What was to be done? We'll 1 in Persia justice, though at times very blind | Is swift as rule and often arrives at correct | conclusions by tortuous paths. The Zil-es- l Sultan, finding that the English minister | would not remain satisfied, ordered the rob- bers to be brought before him. There was l no court in our sense of the term; no robed l justices, no array of counsel, no jury. The Prince Governor himself embodied the law. Half a dozen courtiers lolled against the wall, their arms respectfully crossed upon their breasts. Seated upon silk mattress in corner of the room, his back supported by gold-embroidered cushions, the young prince twiddled his mustache or played with the jeweled hilt of his sabre, or toyed with the buckle of priceless brilliants which formed the central ornament of his plain leather waist-belt.
 The three men were dressed as villagers usually are, in tall felt caps and long felt coats. When they were hustled into the hall of audience they were still heavily ironed; for these men are often desperate criminals and would not hesitate for a mo- ment to murder their gaolers if they thought
 they would thereby secure a chance of es- cape. On entering the royal presence they
 bow almost to the ground. ''Salaaml" they shout in kind of chorus; your villager nev- CT speaks, he always shouts. "How do you lise prison!" says the prince, nodding to them with smile. In reply the bandits as- sert their innocence, calling at every sen- tence upon heaven and the prophet. sAre we not harmless tribesmen, we who live in your Royal Highness' shadows May we be your sacrifcel" The prince still smiles blandly. "Ah, my friends" says he, 'I too am Mussulman. We are all MussuImans here; and-and in fact-au unbeliever more or less doesn't much matter. You have truly done good deed. I shall not really the Feringhi there is of course no doubt; and so I must punish you nominally. What I propose to do is to cut off a joint of one finger of each of you. But what is that? Nothing. Your dresses of honor are ready. You will put them on and will be instantly liberated. And now, my children" says the smiling prince, ''tell me all about it. How did you manage it, eh2' The astonished and delighted prisoners received this speech with burst of joy. All shouting at once, they hastened to give the prince full particulars. ''The European fired twice from one pistol may we be your sacrifce!-and then we all fired together, rushing in on him. He was but a European-may your shadow never be lessl We trust in the clemeney of your Royal Highnessl May we be your sacrificed"
 The smile faded from the face of the young Prince Governor; his likeness to the Shah bis father, becoming very apparent as his countenance darkened into ferocity. He had got at the truth and without more ado nod ded with appropriate significance to his chief of police, the Farrash- -bashi, burly. black bearded man who stood behind the crlmi- nals. The prisoners were removed; they were hurried into the public square, in which the palace stands, and there their throats were cut. The bodies lay exposed till sun set, terror to evil-doers.
 A red granite tablet in one of the Chris tian churches at Julia, subscribed for by the engineer officers and non-commissioned off cers in Persia, commentaries the death of Sergeant Collins.