recalled them. What was more. Believing he might successfully appeal to the memories of an imaginative people, especially to that class which had in former years enjoyed the benefits of British service, and in later had not been subjected to the manœuvres of the conspirators, he despatched circulars to all the pensioned sipáhís in the province inviting them to come to Lakhnao to defend the masters to whom they owed their pensions, and whose interests were bound up with theirs. The response to these circulars was remarkable. More than 500 grey-headed soldiers came to Lakhnao. Sir Henry gave them a cordial welcome, and selecting about 170 of them for active employment, placed them under a separate command. With these and the loyal sipáhís he had now nearly 800 able-bodied men fit for any work they might be called upon to perform.
But many disloyal sipáhís still remained in his vicinity. Of these the cavalry and infantry of the native police broke out on the night of the 11th and the morning of the 12th. Vainly did their commandant, the Gould Weston of whom I have spoken, endeavour to recall them to their duty. He owed his own life to his remarkable daring. The 32d, sent in pursuit, followed up the mutinied policemen and inflicted some damage, but the ground was broken, the heat was great, and the mutineers had a considerable start. It was in many respects an advantage to be rid of them.
In view of the great crisis now so near as almost to be touched by the hand, Sir Henry had continued to strengthen the slight defences of the Residency enclosure, and to make the Machchí Bhawan as defensible as possible. He had originally resolved to hold both places. But as soon as he had realised the fact that the small number of his troops would permit only of his retaining one portion against the
