Hoosanee did more good work at Nowgong. Professing to be a discontented native official from Gumilcund, he insinuated himself into the confidence of the two or three uneasy spirits in the station, and made one of them promise to communicate with him when matters should seem ripe for a revolt. He was relieved to find that the discontented were in a minority, and that they had no present hope of increasing their numbers, or of being able to take any decided step. As it was in Nowgong, so it was elsewhere. Whether from fear of the vengeance that seemed so strangely to halt, or from some remnant of right feeling, it is impossible to say. Possibly the revolt at Meerut, hurried on by the punishment of mutineers, and the consequent taking of Delhi, took the native as well as the English army in India by surprise. However this may have been, it is certain that, between the middle of May and the beginning of June, there was a lull, during which the scattered groups of English, who were absolutely in the power of native troops, took heart once more. A body of Ghoorka soldiers, sent across the Nepaul border to strengthen the hands of the English, under command of that gallant young soldier, Gambier Singh, was recalled by the Governor's orders, and a proclamation, promising pardon to the mutineers who had not actually taken part in the murder of Europeans, was issued. This last was a most disastrous step. No one understanding the nature of Asiatics could have taken it. The mutinous troops and agitators, staggered by their own successes, and secretly dreading the vengeance of the White Man, whom they had insulted and defied, began now to breathe more freely. The White Man was afraid, or he would not seek to propitiate them. And who could wonder? They were but a little number in the land, and England, which at best was a small country, and hemmed in, as some of them had heard, by hosts of enemies, was hundreds of miles away across a stormy sea. Let them but be true to their colours for a short time, and the word of prophecy would be fulfilled. The raj of the stranger-race would pass away for ever. Thinking thus, they were ready to bide their time and do nothing rashly. It was this lull which threw dust in the eyes of the English officers. One of these was General Elton. He had, as it happened, no distinct command. What his personal influence might have effected if he had been at Meerut when the storm broke it is impossible to say. He might have shamed the authorities into action, and saved the honour of the English name. But he was absent, in pursuance of the mission that had been entrusted to him. As an old regimental and brigade officer, supposed to be well versed in the native character, he had been deputed, on the first rumour of discontent in the army, to travel through the North-West Provinces and the Central Indian Agency, examining into grievances, and reporting on the general condition of the troops.