If there had been any hope of rescuing our force from destruction by honest fighting in the field, the Envoy would not have resorted to such shifts as are indicated in these letters. But he had unhappily discovered that the military commanders had abandoned all hope of beating the enemy, and were thinking of making their way out of the thicket of danger that encompassed them by a path less honourable and less secure. Anxious above all things to escape the disgrace of an open capitulation, which would have humiliated us in the eyes of all the nations of the East, the Envoy exerted all his diplomatic skill to create disunion among our principal enemies—to buy off those whose cupidity was stronger than their hatred—and to offer a reward for the seizure of others. All this was at least within the range of orthodox diplomacy. But in the meanwhile that other, darker agency, of which I reluctantly spoke at the close of my last chapter, was being brought into operation. On the 11th of November, John Conolly again wrote to Mohun Lal: “Why do you not write? What has become of Meer Hyder? Is he doing anything with Khan Shereen? You never told me whether you had written to Naib Humza. What do the rebels propose doing now? Have you not made any arrangements about the bodies of the murdered officers? Offer 2000 rupees to any one who will take them to cantonments, or 1000 to any one who will bury them. Has not Sir Alexander’s body been found? Give my salaam to the Naib. If Khan Shereen is not inclined to do service, try other Kuzzilbash chiefs independently. Exert yourself. Write to me often, for the news of Kossids is not to be depended on. There is a man called Hadjee Ali, who might be induced by a bribe to try and bring in the heads of one or two of the _Mufsids_. Endeavour to let him know that 10,000 rupees will be given for each head, or even 15,000 rupees. I have sent to him two or three times.” Mohun Lal, having by this time disencumbered himself of some of his misgivings on the score of his own personal safety, seems to have set about the work entrusted to him with a zeal that must have abundantly satisfied his employers. Hadjee Ali, and another man named Aga Mahomed Soudah, were the agents to whom he first offered the price of the blood of their unhappy countrymen. But the Moonshee, perplexed by doubts rather than burdened with scruples, did not see very clearly at first how the chiefs were to be taken off; so he wrote to the Envoy that “he could not find out by Lieutenant Conolly’s notes how the rebels are to be assassinated, but the men now employed promise to go into their houses and cut off their heads when they may be without attendants.”