number at his disposal. But the heavy weight of responsibility had made his brain slow, and his arm powerless to strike. He did, indeed, despatch a few riflemen the following day, in a river steamer, to the mouth of the river Són. But there the draught of water was insufficient, and the men returned, having accomplished nothing. Then the General wrote to Mr Tayler to the effect that, far from pursuing the mutineers, he intended to intrench himself at Dánápur, as he feared that, joined by Kunwar Singh, they would return to attack him. Then it was that the nature of William Tayler showed itself. He was a civilian; the other was a soldier. The soldier, sad to recount, his moral faculties overborne, proposed to intrench himself against an enemy who had no thought of attacking him. The civilian, with all his wits about him, his strong faculties never so clear as in the time of danger, deprecated the resolution of the soldier with all the eloquence he could command. He implored him to lose no time in pursuing the rebels, showed that there was yet time to catch them, and that vigour and energy might yet retrieve the disaster.
Tayler's strong exhortations convinced the General. They impressed upon him some of the passionate conviction which animated the daring Commissioner. He despatched then a body of troops, 415 in number, with fifteen officers, commanded by Captain Dunbar, to be conveyed by steamer to a point not far from the spot where the road to Árah strikes the river Són. Thence they would march to the former place, where, it was believed, the sipáhís would be found.
Leaving these men marching, I must return to the sipáhís.
The rebel native soldiers, surprised at being allowed to escape without pursuit, reached the banks of the Són
