stated his opinion that the spirit of mutiny was rife among them. We
laughed at his fears, and dismissed from our minds all alarm, vaunting
our superiority in arms to the dusky soldiery of Hindostan, and in our
hearts foolishly regarding them with lordly contempt.

Thus passed in the usual quiet the first twelve days of the month of
May, 1857. The morning of May 13 saw us, as usual, on parade; then,
adjourning to the mess-house, we spent a few hours over breakfast and
billiards, and before midday separated to pass the heat of the day
reading, lounging, and sleeping at our respective bungalows.

I occupied a large house some distance from the mess in company with a
field-officer and the Adjutant of my regiment. The former, about
1 p. m., was summoned by an orderly to attend a meeting at the quarters
of the Brigadier[1] commanding the troops at Ferozepore. We paid no heed
to this incident, as it occurred to us that the Major's advice and
opinion were required on some matter of regimental or other routine.

Vicars and I were in the habit, since the hot weather began, of making
ices every afternoon, and had become, from long practice, quite
proficient at the work. At three o'clock we were in the midst of our
occupation, our whole thoughts and energies bent on the accomplishment
of our task. Clad in loose déshabillé, seated on the floor of the
sitting-room, we worked and watched the process of congelation.

Presently a quick step was heard in the hall, the door was thrown open,
and the Major, rushing in, sank breathless into a chair. The Adjutant
and I jumped up, and in our haste upset the utensils, spilling on the
floor the contents we had taken so much trouble to prepare. A minute or
two passed, and still no word from our friend, who, portly in shape, and