sources, must inevitably be overrun. Under these circumstances, Mr Tayler, acting like a skilful general who feels that his detachments would be liable, when separated from one another and unsupported, to be cut up in detail, but would successfully resist the enemy if united, authorised his several subordinate officers at the isolated stations to fall back upon Patná, bringing the contents of their treasuries with them, unless in so doing their personal safety should be endangered. It was a wise and statesmanlike order, and it would have been so accepted by all the world but for the sudden appearance on the scene of a man whose genius and daring suddenly changed disaster into triumph.
Such men are born seldom. The man who accomplished this feat was a major in the artillery, who had served in the first Kábul war, had been kept there a prisoner, who had written a story of the events which led to and followed the disaster to the English, and who had since served in Gwáliár and in Burma. His name was Vincent Eyre. He had but just been recalled from Burma, and had been despatched with a European battery, on board a steamer from Calcutta bound for Allahábád, on the 10th of July.
Eyre had reached Dánápur the evening of the 25th, the day memorable for the successful rising of the three regiments. He had gone on shore and offered his services to the General, but as these were not required, he had proceeded the next day to Baksar, forty-three miles from Árah. There he heard that the mutinied sipáhís were advancing by way of Árah towards Baksar. As this place was the headquarters of the Government stud, and was but thirty miles from Gházípur, Eyre decided to detain the tender of the steamer at Baksar, whilst he should proceed in the latter to Gházípur to ensure the
