but, much to my surprise, I enticed them out by threatening to jump in and kill them if they did not return. As soon as I got them on terra firma, I asked them why they had deserted. As they could give no explanation, I tied them together with the turban of one of their number, and flogged them back to the dhoolee, where the head-man of the party also bestowed some blows on account of himself and the other bearers. Had I not caught these fellows, I might have been obliged to pass all night on the road, as the four bearers who remained could not have carried me to Peeplee, five miles or more-from the place where the difficulty occurred.

In reading over my notes to my friends since my return, some of them have considered this occurrence a little extraordinary. But in truth those parts of the incident which excited their wonder were only those which were characteristic of the native character. In any other country it would seem strange that a sick man, entirely unarmed, could bind and beat four men, any one of whom was quite a match for him, even if he had been well. But in India it is the most natural thing in the world, and similar occurrences are constantly happening to every one. I felt quite sure there would be no resistance, and I am certain they never thought of offering any. The only difficulty I found was, that whenever I gave them a blow they would all fall down on the ground, yelling and joining their hands over the head, so that we did not get back to the palkee as soon as was desirable, considering that it was a cold night and I was scarcely clothed at all.

On arriving at Delhi I put up at the bungalow of Lieutenants Anderson and Butler, as my friend Captain Russell, who had asked me to stay with him when I should return, was absent at a coursing meeting.

I remained four days at Delhi, partly because the doctor had advised me not to travel fast, and partly because it was difficult to lay a dâk, the horses being all taken up for several days by parties going up country. Although on some accounts this delay was annoying, yet on the whole I liked it, as I had very pleasant quarters, and could thus pass Christmas in civilized society.

During my stay I saw something of "the life of an Indian officer;" which struck me as far from luxurious. Two men generally occupy a bungalow together. Each of the "chums" has one or two rooms to himself, and there is a large centre apartment which they have in common. The furniture consists of a bed, a table and a few chairs, generally of different patterns. The walls are bare or only decorated with an elk's head and horns, or some such trophy of the occupant's prowess. In one corner are a pair of foils and a gun. Against the wall are two large trunks, made to strap on a camel, which contain the officer's wardrobe. A few books in Persian and Hindoostanee, and the last magazine (six months old) lying on the table, complete the description of the "Oriental luxury" in which the young unmarried officers of the Company's service live.

As they advance in rank and pay, and particularly when they get married, they of course manage to collect around them some of the comforts of an English home-but still the above is a fair description of the interior of most of the bungalows.

The officer's life is as follows: He is wakened by his servant long before sunrise, dresses in uniform, and attends morning parade. This is over by seven or nine o'clock, according to the season. He then returns to his house, takes a bath, and dresses in civil costume. About ten, comes breakfast, known as burra hazree, or "great breakfast" to distinguish it from chota hazree, or "little breakfast" which consists of a cup of tea or coffee and a bit of toast taken before the parade. Some officers prefer to take this first meal at the mess-house, and it is then called "coffee shop." The burra hazree usually includes meat or fish or fruit, and is often followed by a hookah. Then comes business, either regimental, or the officer's study with a moonshee, or native interpreter-an occupation to which of late years they have been nearly all addicted. At two o'clock there is tiffin at the mess-house-cold meats, mulligatawney soup, and ale. After tiffin there is generally a game of billiards-nearly every regiment having a billiard table in its mess-house. After tiffin there are calls to be made on the

ladies of the station, or else there is more regimental duty and study. At about five the officer dresses again in uniform and goes to the course (or drive around the parade-ground) either in buggy or on horseback. Here all the residents and ladies of the station are to be found on the afternoons when the band plays. If there is no band, the "afternoon parade” occupies the time that would otherwise be spent on the course. Dinner comes as soon as it is dark, and concludes the day. As there are no other amusements for the evening, it is made as long as possible, and very pleasant indeed the dinners were of which I partook at the mess of the Fifty-fourth. After the table was cleared we would draw around the wood fire, some of the men smoking their hookahs, others cheroots. An hour or so would be passed in conversation, or a quiet game of cards, and by half-past nine or ten every man had returned home and gone to bed, in readiness for the early call next morning.

On Christmas day I went with several officers to a large dinner at the house of Mr. Beresford, the manager of the Delhi bank. His house was a large and handsome mansion in the city, near the Chandee chôk. It was built and at one time occupied by the Bégoom Sombre or Sumroo of Sirdhána. Mr. Beresford came out to India as a common soldier in the Company's European army, and had raised himself by his talents to the opulent position which he then enjoyed. The Misses Beresford, two very charming young ladies, who had just returned from England, where they had been educated, and other ladies of the station were present.

After dinner we had music, and dancing; and the evening concluded with the old fashioned games of snap-dragon, blindman's buff, and hunt-the-ring. At the latter, Colonel Riddle, who was on his way to Agra, to take charge of the newlyraised Third European regiment, distinguished himself greatly. Among the decorations of the room were several misletoe boughs, which had been brought with much trouble from the Himalayas, but there were so few young ladies that kissing would have been personal, so the old custom went unhonoured.

Altogether the evening at Mr. Beresford's was one of the most delightful and homelike that I spent during my travels; and the whole time that I spent at Delhi, became by the kindness and attention of the officers, one of the most agreeable periods of my journey.

Four months after I left Delhi, one hot morning in May, the Christian inhabitants were startled by hearing that the mutinous Mahommedan cavalry of Meeruth were crossing the bridge and entering the city, massacring all the "infidels" on whom they could lay hands.

The news was probably no less unexpected and unwelcome to the Hindoos, who, after the fashion of their people, at once shut up their shops and secreted their property.

The officer in command of the Cashmeeree gate at once sent to cantonments for reënforcements. The sepoys of the Fifty-fourth, on learning the news, demanded to be led against the mutineers. Their request was complied with. As they marched to the city they vied with one another in professions of fidelity, and threats against the insurgents, but no sooner had they entered the gate and met the mutineers in the square before St. James' Church, than they separated on each side of the road, leaving their officers unprotected. My unfortunate friends had felt so confident of the result that they had come out without even their side-arms. A suwar galloped up to each and pistolled him like a dog.

The Christian inhabitants of Delhi, including the English, the half-castes and the native converts, concealed themselves as best they might, or sought safety in flight. All who were taken were mercilessly put to death. A few fled to the royal palace, and were promised protection by the Emperor, but they too were afterwards slain by his orders.

The cantonments were plundered by the mutineers and rabble of the city. A very few of the officers and ladies escaped, some to Umbala, some to Meeruth. One party, comprising several ladies, entrusted themselves to a sepoy guard, who swore to protect them, but when they had conducted them to a secure place, turned round and butchered them. All who were found in the cantonments were slain, and among the hor

rible sights that met the English troops when they arrived, was the body of a little boy, who had been nailed, head downwards, to the wall of one of the bungalows, and so left to die.

As I was travelling in Germany last summer, I met a German who had escaped from Agra during the mutiny. He told me of the fate of the Beresfords, which he had learned. from a native who was in Delhi at the time. The details were sickening. The whole family, parents, and five children were "done to death" in the presence of each other, with such refinements of mental and bodily torture as Hell itself might learn a lesson from.

When the city was fairly in the hands of the revolted soldiery, they proclaimed the supremacy of the Emperor, and established a sort of government, the forms of which seem to have been largely derived from those of their English masters. The Emperor was to be supreme, but had a "council," at the head of which was a "Sěkětur" (secretary). This council was composed of the "Kurnuls" of all the revolted regiments. A document emanating from it has been discovered, by which it appears that but few of these high officials could even sign their names.

As the revolt spread through the Presidency, the mutinous troops all poured into Delhi. Their support must have been a tremendous burden on the Hindoo inhabitants. On the first day they shut up their shops, but afterwards they were ordered by the Emperor's government to open them and sell their property to the soldiers considerably below cost. These orders being enforced by flogging and the fear of death, were complied with. By the same means large subsidies were forced from the reluctant bankers and other rich men-a class wholly composed of Hindoos, and the only class in the country who possess wealth, and have any very great stake in the preservation of order. They must often have cursed a state of affairs, which compelled them to support, by their hard-earned wealth, the mad movement which was ruining them, and which forced them to contribute to the establishment of a gov ernment under which they well knew how insecure would be