noticed leaving the city with bundles on their heads, and when, half-an-hour later, sipáhís and other armed bodies were observed to follow them, it became clear that the end was at hand. The garrison brought every gun and mortar to bear on the retreating foe. At four o'clock the report arose that some English officers, dressed in shooting coats, and some soldiers, wearing blue pantaloons, had been seen in the vicinity of the Motí Mahall. An hour later volleys of musketry, rapidly growing louder, were heard in the city. Soon the bullets were whistling over the Residency. Five minutes later and the British troops were seen fighting their way through one of the principal streets. Once fairly seen the long pent-up feelings of the garrison found vent in a succession of deafening cheers. Even from the hospital many of the wounded crawled forth to join in that shout of welcome. 'Soon,' continues Captain Wilson, from whose graphic journal I have abridged the account in the text, 'soon all the rear-guard and heavy guns were inside our position; and then ensued a scene which baffles description. For eighty-seven days the Lakhnao garrison had lived in utter ignorance of all that had taken place outside. Wives who had long mourned their husbands as dead were again restored to them. Others, fondly looking forward to glad meetings with those near and dear to them, now for the first time learned that they were alone. On all sides eager inquiries for relations and friends were made. Alas! in too many cases the answer was a painful one.'
But the Residency had been relieved, or, to speak more correctly, had been reinforced. For, after the delirium of joy had given place to sober considerations, it was recognised that the combined troops were not strong enough to escort the non-combatant portion of the garrison through the city, still thronged with armed rebels, and
