feeling working against the British. The impressions conceived in Calcutta were more than confirmed after his return to Gwáliár, and he had informed the Governor-General's Agent at his Court that, in his opinion, the situation was extremely perilous. The news of the events at Mírath and Dehlí had driven fast into his mind these convictions, and he was satisfied that a very evil time was approaching for his overlord.
Could his great predecessor, Mádhájí Ráo, have risen from his grave, it is possible that, holding these convictions, he might have used all the resources at his disposal to drive home the blow which had been dealt at Dehlí. But Jaiájí Ráo had had far more personal experience of the British than had been granted to the greatest representative of his house. He knew, from his own dealings with them, that they were to be trusted implicitly. Under their suzerainty he enjoyed all the internal authority his ancestors had wielded, whilst his suzerain bound himself to assure him against aggression from without. For what compensating advantage was he to renounce this position? To place himself and the resources of his State at the disposal of mutinous soldiers or a puppet king? Who, too, was that puppet king? He was no other than the descendant of the Mughal sovereigns who had in vain tried to subdue the Maráthás, and whom the Maráthás had instead subdued. No; there was no temptation to turn against those whom he had proved to support others whom he despised. Not for a moment did he hesitate. From the hour he heard of the events at Dehlí he threw himself heart and soul into the cause of the British.
Sindhiá had in this very month warned the British Agent at his Court not only that the sipáhí army was undermined to the core, but that the men of his own regiments, officered by British officers were not more to be
