Mr. Simpson was very keen to remain at Manipur, too; but all his work was done there, and there was really no reason for his stopping. He wired to the colonel of his regiment for permission to remain, and my husband backed the request up, so eventually the necessary leave was granted, and he was delighted at the mere idea of a disturbance which might mean fighting. Of course the sudden alteration in my plans did not escape the notice of the Jubraj, and in fact the durbar itself. It seemed as though the whole State was on the _qui vive_, to discover any slight clue to the mystery which surrounded the visit of the Chief Commissioner. My sudden determination to depart was looked upon as possessing a very serious meaning indeed. I was flying from danger. This was the prevailing idea, and the Tongal General asked me point blank one day whether it was the case or not, at the same time begging me to put off going till after the Chief had left Manipur. The princes used every persuasion they could to induce me to remain, and they and the old general came more than once with messages from the Maharajah to the same effect. We explained to them that my passage was taken and paid for in the steamer, and that the money would be forfeited if I failed to sail on a certain date; but this had no weight, and they did not seem to like my going away at all, and begged me to stay on. These persuasions, added to my husband’s extreme reluctance to let me go, and my own wish to remain, carried the day. About ten days before Mr. Quinton arrived we heard for certain that the object of his visit was _not_ the restoration of the ex-Maharajah, and so, after much coaxing from me, my husband, thinking of course that no danger could now be possible, allowed me to stay. I remember so well how lightly we talked over coming events, and my husband saying that if anything did happen, they would make me a nice safe place in one of the cellars under the house. Could we but foresee what is behind the dark veil with which the future is enveloped, and know that sometimes in our idlest moments we are standing as it were on the brink of a grave, is there one of us who would not rather die at once than struggle on into the abyss of desolation and death awaiting us in the near future? And yet it is undoubtedly a merciful Providence that orders our comings and goings from day to day in such a manner that we cannot peer into the mist of approaching years, and discover for ourselves what fate awaits each one of us. ‘Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.’ CHAPTER XIII.