Our ignorance as to Mr. Quinton’s proceedings—News at last reach India and England—Take off my clothes for the first time for ten days—March to Lahkipur—The ladies of Cachar send clothes to me—Write home—Great kindness shown to me—My fears for my husband—The telegram arrives with fatal news—Major Grant’s narrative 275-315 CHAPTER XX. Her Majesty gives me the Red Cross—I go to Windsor and see her Majesty—The Princess of Wales expresses a wish to see me—Conclusion 316-321 NOTE. _The two letters written by Major Grant, and quoted on pp. 289 and 309, appeared originally in the columns of the ‘Times’ newspaper._ [Illustration: DRAGON IN FRONT OF THE PALACE.] THREE YEARS IN MANIPUR CHAPTER I. My husband offered the post of Political Agent at Manipur—Arrival there and first impressions—Adventures on the journey—Coolies—Arrive at Cachar. Manipur! How well I remember the first time I ever heard the name—a name, too, which was comparatively unknown three short years ago, owing to the fact that it belongs to a remote little tract of country buried amongst hills, and difficult of access, far away from civilized India, and out of the beaten track. This is not a geographical treatise, and therefore there is no necessity to dwell much on the exact whereabouts of a place which has already been described more than once. I will therefore attempt no lengthy description, simply stating that the valley of Manipur lies between Cachar, the Kubo Valley, and Kohima, and is surrounded by six ranges of hills which separate it from the tracts of country named. A pretty place, more beautiful than many of the show-places of the world; beautiful in its habitable parts, but more beautiful in those tracts covered with forest jungle where the foot of man seldom treads, and the stillness of which is only broken by the weird cry of the hooluck[1] or the scream of a night-bird hunting its prey.