to the latter. To them it plainly indicated that the rebels had penetrated to the heart of the city; that, for the moment, mutiny had triumphed. So, at least, thought the sipáhís of the company of the 38th N. I. which had moved up to the main-guard. Raising their muskets to the shoulder, the men of that company fired a volley into the group of officers near them. Gordon, the field-officer of the day, fell dead from his horse without a groan. Smith and Reveley of the 74th N. I. shared the same fate. There was nothing for it for the survivors but to run. There was a way of escape, perilous indeed, but certain for the time. This was to dash through the embrasure in the bastion skirting the courtyard of the main-guard, to drop thirty feet into the ditch, and ascending the opposite scarp, to gain the glacis, and thence the jungle beyond it. In an instant the conviction took possession of the minds of the yet unwounded officers that this way of escape must be attempted. Suddenly, however, the despairing cries of the women in the upper room of the main-guard reminded them that the escape which was easy to men might be impossible for the other sex. However, there was no other, so, conducting the women to the embrasure, the officers fastened their belts together, and whilst some of them descended first, the others from above helped the women to slide down. The whizzing of a round-shot over their heads hastened their movements, and at last, in a shorter time than had seemed possible, the descent was accomplished. More difficult was the climbing to the glacis; but this came to a fortunate end. Then the fugitives pressed on into the jungle, thence some to the cantonments, others towards the Metcalfe House.
But in neither of these places was there safety. The sipáhís were by this time thoroughly roused. There was
