Outside the noise was deafening. Shells burst around us at every turn, and kept striking the trees and knocking off great branches. All idea of going up into the house had to be abandoned, so I could not get a hat or cloak or anything for the journey before us, and had to start as I was. Just before lunch-time I had taken off the close-fitting winter gown which I had put on in the morning, and instead had arrayed myself in a blue serge skirt and white silk blouse, which gave me more freedom for my work in the hospital. I could not have chosen better as far as a walking costume went, and should have been all right if only I had been able to collect a few outdoor garments—hat, cloak, and boots, for instance. As things happened, I was wearing on my feet thin patent leather slippers, which were never meant for out-of-door use, and my stockings were the ordinary flimsy kind that women generally wear. My dress had got soiled already in the hospital, and was not improved by the march afterwards; but I managed to get it washed when we eventually reached British territory, and have it by me to this day. It will be preserved as an interesting relic. CHAPTER XVI. Escape of the servants—Mr. Gurdon comes for me—Away from shelter and one’s life in one’s hands—Over the hedge and across the river—Lie in the ditch for shelter from shot—Fired on at Burri Bazaar. The bustle and confusion outside were great. The Sepoys were being mustered into marching order, but around them on all sides people were rushing about, knocking each other over in their eagerness to make good their escape. These were chiefly servants, Bunnias,[17] and the many followers who accumulate wherever a regiment goes. I stood for some time watching them tearing away, until a sudden fear took hold of me that I had been forgotten and left behind. I was meditating going myself, but on second thoughts I remembered I had promised the officers to remain where I was, and they had said they would come for me; and just at that moment one of them came and told me that we were to make a move. Out in the open, away from the shelter of the house, with one’s life in one’s hands, as it were, my senses nearly left me. The noise was awful, for besides the bursting of the shells, the firing was heavier than it had been before. I had not gone six yards from the house when a shell exploded almost at my feet, knocking off some branches of a big tree close by, and wounding me very slightly in the arm. I jumped behind the tree, in the vain hope that its broad trunk might save me from further injury, and there I remained for some seconds. The scurrying of those going towards the river awoke me to my senses again, and off I went, too, forgetting to look for my companion, from whom I had managed to get separated.