at least
read me the paper."

The soldier tore the band and flung it from him, shaking out the sheet,
and then threw himself on the ground in the same indolent attitude.

"What news will interest you, Isabel?" he asked; but before the reply
could be given, his eye fell on the column headed "Latest Intelligence,"
and all traces of apathy disappeared as if by magic, the words "Massacre
at Cawnpore," "Atrocities committed by Nana Sahib," meeting his eye.

"Why, what is the matter, Enrico?" asked Isabel, laying down her work in
alarm, for his eyes literally blazed with fury, as he snatched up the
despised letter, and tore it open, reading therein the details of the
terrible massacre of Cawnpore.

"And where is Cawnpore?" asked Isabel.

"It is a large station on the right bank of the Ganges, where a European
force is generally quartered, and in whose neighbourhood a large number
of my countrymen live. The native troops have revolted, murdered their
English officers, while the trusted friend of the British, Nana Sahib,
has seized the treasury, joined the rebels, and the revolt spreading,
India has thrown off our rule, while the handful of English are being
murdered piecemeal."

"Surely, you mean killed in open warfare, Enrico? In our days people
are not murdered wholesale," said Isabel, opening her eyes widely with
horror and astonishment.

"Listen to my letter, Isabel. It is from an old friend and officer of
my own regiment, and after telling me that the corps has been ordered to
join Sir Henry Havelock's force, it says:--

"`The proceedings at Cawnpore are a blot on humanity. The women,
children, and sick were placed in barracks, which it was thought the
enemy would respect. Their guns thundered night and day on Wheeler's
entrenchments, held only by a handful of men against the rebel army;
but, not content with this, they threw carcasses filled with powder on
to the thatched roof which they knew covered the defenceless women,
burned it and them, shouting and laughing when they saw the flames.'"

"How horrible!" ejaculated Isabel.

"Ay: but this is not all," continued Hughes, reading on. "`Without
water, without provisions, the cruel Nana offered terms, offered life
and liberty. They were accepted, and then, in detail, the soldiers
having laid down their arms, were murdered.'"

Hughes put down the letter, and a sorrowful silence ensued. He was
thinking of his late months of idleness, while such events h