ents did not request me to give him up; nor, perhaps, were they
aware that I had such an animal in my possession. Be that as it may,
however, I sold him at Lucknow, to the king of Oude, for two thousand
rupees--about two hundred pounds sterling. Having reported the capture
of the fort to the major-general, who was, of course, much pleased with
the information, and immediately made his arrangements accordingly, I
got my wound dressed. My good-natured doctor was pleased to announce to
me, that if I escaped with the loss of my finger, I might consider
myself fortunate; but he feared that the dreadful manner in which the
finger had been torn, would render amputation of the hand necessary. The
wound was evidently from an iron and rugged ball. Iron ball-wounds
immediately turn a rusty, or more of a yellow colour, and are bad
healing wounds. In the morning my wound was again dressed by another
medical friend; and it was so much better in the forenoon of the
following day, that I got into my palanquin and rode down to the fort. I
must beg to be excused from entering into a minute narration of the
scene inside. Let it suffice, that it far exceeded anything that man
could write, were he to sit down to draw a picture of the most abject
misery and woe. The most depraved wretch could not have looked on the
work of death which presented itself to our eyes, without being melted
into sorrow. I soon turned from such a sight, and stood towards home.

Near a small village, a beautiful young woman, about sixteen years of
age, had been seen, and ultimately seized. Her husband, to whom she had
only been wedded about three months, was one of those who were entombed
when the magazine blew up. From that period nothing could soothe her or
appease her grief; no power could restrain her; and at last she escaped
into the adjoining wood, or rumnah. When I saw her, she was running
wildly; but, at times, she would pause, hold up her finger, and tell you
to listen; when she would exclaim, with the most heart-rending shriek,
"That was him! It was he that did speak! Yet, now he is gone." Then the
poor bewildered maniac would tear her sloe-black hair, which was hanging
in ringlets down her back and bosom, and, at length, sink exhausted to
the ground. She was taken to camp, and committed to the care of some of
her relations, who had been taken prisoners.

[Illustration]

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XVI.

Amongst the prisoners captured in the fort