I remember so well our all standing on the steps of the Residency that afternoon, watching the coolies collecting Mr. Melville’s luggage, and begging him to remain even one day longer with us, for fear of anything going wrong; and I remember equally well his answer: ‘Thank you very much, Mrs. Grimwood,’ he said, ‘but do not fear for me. I am not important enough to be captured by these Manipuris. I shall get on all right, never fear’; and in a few more minutes he had left us. But the thoughts of his going away like that, alone, without any guard to protect him, troubled me more than once that afternoon, and I could not get it out of my head. Matters assumed a serious aspect indeed when my husband returned about six o’clock from the palace with the news that he had been unsuccessful with regard to the Jubraj. There was only one way, then, out of the difficulty, and that was to place the affair in the hands of the military, and apply force where persuasion had failed. It was a council of war, indeed, and everything seemed to combine to fill me with sensations of dread for what was going to happen. I could not feel the excitement that took possession of the men when the chances of a probable fight became known. Such an idea filled me with alarm and horror. The place had a deserted look about it, and on the principal road, as a rule crowded with people at that hour, not a soul was visible. The clouds had been gathering up all the afternoon, and about seven o’clock a terrific thunderstorm occurred, and darkness set in, which was only lit up now and then by brilliant flashes of lightning. I busied myself about the house, where I found a state of confusion reigning. A number of the servants had taken French leave and departed, scenting danger.