He hurried away, having first taken the precaution to lock the door and take the key with him. And, as he crossed the courtyard to the stables, the boom of a heavy gun sounded, dull and ominous, on the morning air. The Meerut mutineers had reached the Jumna. They were swarming over the bridge of boats, and clamouring beneath the windows of the Palace. Captain Douglas, who was then the Commandant of the Palace Guard, instantly ordered the Calcutta Gate to be closed. This was done, and he sought the presence of the King, who, supporting his tottering limbs with a staff, met him in the Hall of Audience. “Your Majesty,” cried Douglas, in an excited tone, “the Sepoys have revolted!” “Have they so?” the King answered, with a cunning leer, his palsied limbs shaking with joy that caused his heart to quicken its pulsations. “Have they so!” Douglas echoed, in astonishment. “Is that the only answer your Majesty has to make?” “The only answer, Douglas. What can we do?” “Do!--blow them to pieces with our guns!” was the reply of the brave Englishman. Through the open windows of the Palace came the cry of the insurgents-- “We have killed the English in Meerut. Long live the King of Delhi. We have come to restore the Dynasty, to raise the House of Timour, to fight for the Faith!” The King smiled with satisfaction, and Douglas, seeing the treachery of the King, hurried away to join the other Europeans of the guard. The mutineers, finding the Calcutta Gate closed, rushed along the road that runs between the Palace walls and the river, until they reached the Ragghat Gate, which was instantly opened to them by the Mohammedans, and the murderous crew clattered into the town, shouting as they went-- “Glory to the Padishah, and death to the Feringhees!” Then ensued a scene that can scarcely be described. They murdered every European they met; they set fire to every house, and then doubled back to the Calcutta Gate. Here Captain Douglas, Commissioner Fraser, and several other Englishmen, had stationed themselves. And, as the troopers galloped up, Fraser seized a musket, and shot the foremost one dead. A buggy, with a horse attached, was standing by, for Commissioner Fraser had just driven up. He sprang into the vehicle, and, lashing the horse into a gallop, made for the Lahore Gate, whilst Douglas jumped into the ditch of the fort. He was severely injured by the fall, but he was sheltered from the enemy’s fire. In a little while he was discovered by a soldier of his guard, whom he had once befriended. This man lifted him on his back, and carried him into the Palace, to a room where the English chaplain and his two daughters were listening to the horrible tumult below. But soon it became known that the Europeans were there. Then a demoniacal crew rushed up the stairs, and, breaking into the room, massacred the little party with exultant ferocity. It was a brief and bloody murder, as horrible as any that stained the walls of the Delhi Palace.