showed his appreciation of his conduct by retaining him near his person. Next morning the army of rescue was on the march, and after a feeble resistance reached the Alum Bagh. On the 14th of November they advanced against Lucknow, under the guidance of Kavanagh, who was familiar with the neighbourhood of the city. The cowardly Sepoys fled before our men, and sought refuge within the walls of Lucknow. On reaching the banks of the river the English army halted, and spent the night under arms, waiting anxiously and eagerly for the hour when the Massacre of Cawnpore was to be avenged. The night was dark and chilly; Kavanagh slept by the side of Sir Colin Campbell on the cold floor; the foe attempted nothing to disturb their repose. With the earliest dawn Sir Colin was mounted on his charger, riding from post to post and giving his orders for the day. A new route proposed by Kavanagh, as preferable to that indicated by Outram, was at once adopted; but during the following night a heavy cannonade was kept up to mislead the enemy from the real point of danger. Next morning our men advanced rapidly through the tortuous lanes and thick plantations, meeting with little resistance from the enemy, who expected to be attacked in another quarter, till they reached the Secunder Bagh. Here a heavy fire of musketry was opened upon them, and the first man who tried to pass was shot in the hip and fell. Kavanagh leaped from his horse, took the poor fellow in his arms, and bore him in safety to a neighbouring hut. Others pressed forward and surrounded the building; the artillery seized an embankment which commanded the gate; the enemy were deprived of all means of escape. The Highlanders were the first who entered; arrested in their progress by a dead wall, they mounted the roof, tore off the tiles, and leaped into the midst of the mutineers. At the same time a breach was made in the walls of the Secunder Bagh; Sikh and Highlander vied with one another in being the first to reach it; many were hit, but nothing could resist their impetuous bravery. They forced their way in, and, maddened with resistance and the remembrance of Cawnpore, they showed no mercy; the bayonet did its deadly work till all was still, and two thousand of the mutineers were piled together in one gory mass as a monument of our vengeance. Humanity shudders at the remembrance of such a scene, but the murderers of helpless women and children at Cawnpore deserved no quarter.