The colonel and officers of the 193rd never doubted that their beloved regiment would prove true to its salt, for the most friendly feeling existed between officers and men. Some of the former had more than once risked their lives for their men, and in return several of the sepoys had rescued their officers from situations of great peril by their pluck and devotion. Terrible as were many of the acts committed by the mutineers, we must not consider them as so many fiends in the shape of men, nor must we believe that their delight was to shed human blood. In 1857 the sepoy was a madman inflamed with rage and bitter hatred against those whom he mistakenly considered his oppressors; and many who suffered most from his fury were in truth his best friends and well-wishers. Most inconsistent were his actions, and his character was a mass of contradictions. He was simple and credulous as a child, and at the same time crafty and designing; his cruelty was frequently evident, and never more so than in this terrible year, yet as a rule he was gentle and kindly. It was no uncommon sight for the hardened sepoy warrior to be found watching beside his English officer's sick-bed, and no woman could be a more gentle nurse; he was devoted to his sahib's children, and loved to make them happy. Generally he was languid and indolent, yet capable of being roused to passionate energy; at times light-hearted and cheerful, at times depressed and given to brooding over his wrongs, both real and fancied. Mutinies had not been unknown before the year 1857, but on previous occasions the outbreaks had resembled the naughtiness of a child, and like a child the sepoy usually injured himself more than others. Though no condemnation of those who participated in the murdering of women and children can be too severe, yet we must not paint the sepoy in colours too black. Let us try to put ourselves in his place, and see what it meant. Suppose that he honestly believed that the English were seeking his destruction, can we not imagine his despair and panic? Many of the mutineers, however, believed the explanations of their English officers, and felt assured that the cartridge-paper contained no offensive matter, and these men tried to put everything right. And what was the result? Their comrades believed that these sensible sepoys had sold themselves to the Feringhis; they were taunted and jeered at as Christians; they became outcasts, and none would eat with them. Not only did their fellow-soldiers shun them, but also their parents and brethren and the people of the village who used to crowd round and bow before them when they visited their homes. They all refused friendship and connection with the outcasts; the letters written home were never answered, and no wonder that these well-meaning fellows were terror-stricken at the thought of their shameful position, and cursed the English and their unclean ways that had brought this to pass.