Another moment and the rider was before me, and reined up. He evidently had heard nothing of the picquet, and was enraged to find me barring the way. By his uniform he was a subadar of the 50th B.N. Infantry, and mounted on an officer's horse. 'The parole?' said I. 'How should I know it? I have just come from Nagode,' said he, in broken English; adding, 'Stand back, Kafir!' 'Oh ho!' I exclaimed, as the epithet warned me at once of enmity; and grasping his reins, 'What news have you from that quarter?' I asked. 'Only that the faithful have risen at last, and not one of the accursed _Ghora Logue_ (_i.e._, white people) will be left alive--not even the youngling at its mother's breast, and all in Jubbulpore shall perish too!' he added through his clenched teeth, while his eyes blazed with fury, and he attempted to draw his sword; but ere he could do so, and as his horse rose on its haunches for an onward bound, I jerked the powerful curb with such violence to the rear, that ere the sword had left its scabbard, man and horse were prostrate on the road--the former stunned and senseless. In a moment more I was in his saddle and galloping back to report to Captain Heron all I had heard from the envoy of the mutineers. The picquet had barely got under arms when a great hubbub was heard coming on from the front, but no appearance of armed men, though the moon had now shone forth. It was chiefly the rolling of wheels and clatter of hoofs, and ere long there came up a wild and terrified throng of European fugitives from Nagode--dishevelled women, exasperated men, and wailing children. In a word, on the approach of the rebels under Koer Sing, the 50th and 52nd had broken out into open mutiny; but, by some merciful interposition of Providence, had permitted their officers, with their families, to fly to Jubbulpore, where they hoped for a time, at least, to find protection and safety. Captain Heron was in the act of promising both, when a cry escaped him, for a sound of scattered musket-shots was heard in our rear, and flames were shooting up from every quarter of the cantonments of Jubbulpore. 'The Punjaubees have revolted!' exclaimed everyone. The sentinels were called in, and the picquet fell back at 'the double'--every heart beating wildly. Upwards of thirty straw-roofed bungalows and innumerable haystacks were blazing at once, casting a lurid glare on the country for miles around; great pinnacles of wavering and many-coloured flames, with huge volumes of smoke, rose into the air of the sultry night, the roar of the conflagration mingling with the yells of the rioters and the shrieks of the perishing.