A futile attempt at pursuit was made the following morning, but, as will be seen, this was carried out in so half-hearted a manner, that the mutineers were able to get safely across the Sutlej with their loot, notwithstanding that the passage of this broad river had to be made by means of a ferry, where only very few boats were available.  Having reached Philour, the British troops were ordered to push on to Delhi, and as Jullundur was thus left without protection, Lake gladly accepted the offer of the Raja of Kapurthala to garrison it with his own troops.

There was no doubt as to the loyalty of the Raja himself, and his sincere desire to help us; but the mismanagement of affairs at Jullundur had done much to lower our prestige in the eyes of his people, and there was no mistaking the offensive demeanour of his troops.  They evidently thought that British soldiers had gone never to return, and they swaggered about in swash-buckler fashion, as only Natives who think they have the upper hand can swagger.

It was clearly Lake’s policy to keep on good terms with the Kapurthala people.  His position was much strengthened by the arrival of our column; but we were birds of passage, and might be off at any moment, so in order to pay a compliment to the officers and principal men with the Kapurthala troops, Lake asked Nicholson to meet them at his house.  Nicholson consented, and a durbar was arranged.  I was present on the occasion, and was witness of rather a curious scene, illustrative alike of Nicholson and Native character.

At the close of the ceremony Mehtab Sing, a general officer in the Kapurthala Army, took his leave, and, as the senior in rank at the durbar, was walking out of the room first, when I observed Nicholson stalk to the door, put himself in front of Mehtab Sing and, waving him back with an authoritative air, prevent him from leaving the room.  The rest of the company then passed out, and when they had gone, Nicholson said to Lake:  ’Do you see that General Mehtab Sing has his shoes on?’[8] Lake replied that he had noticed the fact, but tried to excuse it.  Nicholson, however, speaking in Hindustani, said:  ’There is no possible excuse for such an act of gross impertinence.  Mehtab Sing knows perfectly well that he would not venture to step on his own father’s carpet save barefooted, and he has only committed this breach of etiquette to-day because he thinks we are not in a position to resent the insult, and that he can treat us as he would not have dared to do a month ago.’  Mehtab Sing looked extremely foolish, and stammered some kind of apology; but Nicholson was not to be appeased, and continued:  ‘If I were the last Englishman left in Jullundur, you’ (addressing Mehtab Sing) ’should not come into my room with your shoes on;’ then, politely turning to Lake, he added, ’I hope the Commissioner will now allow me to order you to take your shoes off and carry them out in your own hands, so that your followers may witness your discomfiture.’  Mehtab Sing, completely cowed, meekly did as he was told.