On the terrible Sunday afternoon when the storm broke he was at Jhansi, enjoying the hospitality of the Ranee, and conferring with her on the curious portents of the time. They were actually together when the news came, and the General, who prided himself on his knowledge of character, was more than satisfied by her surprise and indignation. Alarmed for his safety, she entreated him to remain at Jhansi until he could obtain more certain news, but the General, while touched by her solicitude, would not hear of delay. He took horse at once, and, surrounded by the small body of English soldiers with whom he had been travelling, set out on a forced march to Meerut. A tremendous march it was, and fuller of peril, than any one of the little band imagined! Their audacity served them for strength. Those who plotted their destruction hesitated to strike, for some at least must fall victims to these watchful and resolute men. Besides, who could say that an army was not marching at their heels? As, in their dress of scarlet and gold with their sabres flashing in the sun, the General and his guard rode through the country, every one made way for them. From the villages, hostile as many of them were, and infested with _budmashes_ and disbanded soldiers, they had no difficulty in obtaining supplies. To many of the workers of mischief, the gallant old soldier, with his hard face, keen sight and short sharp words of command, came as the first of the avengers, while those amongst ourselves who saw him ride by were inspired with fresh confidence. I was one of these. I was exercising the sullen-looking handful of troops for which I was responsible, on the parade-ground outside our station, when the General passed. He halted for a few moments and watched us. I and my men saluted, and it seemed to me that they drew themselves together and stepped out more briskly. I looked at him--a small man, muscles tense, face stern, lips set firmly together, blue eyes, full of fire and energy, looking out steadily. He was in full-dress uniform, all his accoutrements as spotless as if he were on court parade at home. He rode a little Arab horse, well-fed and groomed, and as highly bred as himself. 'Game to the very finger-tips,' so I said to myself, as I looked at him. While England had such men as the General in reserve, our raj would not pass away. The General rode on. In spite of the fearful anxiety which, as we all knew, was consuming him, he did his duty gallantly. He called at the most important stations on the route, at Gwalior, Agra, Mynpoorie and Secunderabad, doing what he could to encourage the loyal and to awe the discontented. But to Delhi, the most important of them all, he was obliged to give a wide berth, for he knew that the rebels were congregating there in force.