On the afternoon of the same day we reached Khurja, a fair-sized Mahomedan town, from which some of our Cavalry soldiers were recruited.  The first thing that met our eyes on arrival at this place was a skeleton, ostentatiously placed against the side of a bridge leading to the encamping-ground; it was headless, and the bones were hacked and broken.  It was pronounced by more than one doctor to be the skeleton of a European woman.  This sight maddened the soldiery, who demanded vengeance, and at one time it seemed that the town of Khurja would have to pay the penalty for the supposed crime.  The whole force was greatly excited.  At length calmer counsels prevailed.  The people of the town protested their innocence, and expressed their anxiety to be our humble servants; they were, as a whole, given the benefit of the doubt, but some soldiers found in the town, belonging to regiments which had mutinied, were tried, and hanged or acquitted according to the evidence given.

Some excitement was caused on reaching camp by the appearance of a fakir seated under a tree close to where our tents were pitched.  The man was evidently under a vow of silence, which Hindu devotees often make as a penance for sin, or to earn a title to more than a fair share of happiness in a future life.  On our addressing him, the fakir pointed to a small wooden platter, making signs for us to examine it.  The platter had been quite recently used for mixing food in, and at first there seemed to be nothing unusual about it.  On closer inspection, however, we discovered that a detachable square of wood had been let in at the bottom, on removing which a hollow became visible, and in it lay a small folded paper, that proved to be a note from General Havelock, written in the Greek character, containing the information that he was on his way to the relief of the Lucknow garrison, and begging any Commander into whose hands the communication might fall to push on as fast as possible to his assistance, as he sorely needed reinforcements, having few men and no carriage to speak of.  This decided Greathed to proceed with as little delay as might be to Cawnpore.

Just before we left Bulandshahr, a spy reported to me that an English lady was a prisoner in a village some twenty miles off, and that she was anxious to be rescued.  As on cross-examination, however, the story did not appear to me to be very reliable, I told the man he must bring me some proof of the presence of the lady in the village.  Accordingly, on the arrival of the column at Khurja, he appeared with a piece of paper on which was written ‘Miss Martindale.’  This necessitated the matter being inquired into, and I obtained the Brigadier’s permission to make a detour to the village in question.  I started off, accompanied by Watson and Probyn, with their two squadrons of Cavalry.  We timed our march so as to reach our destination just before dawn; the Cavalry surrounded the village, and with a small escort we three proceeded up the little street to