their discomfiture. It so happened, however, that a large party of Seikh horsemen became separated from their comrades, and, perceiving by the staff which surrounded him that they were in the presence of the general, made a dash at Lord Gough himself. The little party was for a few moments in considerable danger. The gallant old chieftain drew forth his pistol, and levelled it at the head of the foremost assailant; it was, however, only on half-cock, and before he had time to discharge it, Lieutenant Stannus, making a dash at the horseman, cut him down. Then ensued a scene which baffles all attempts at description; a series of hand-to-hand encounters took place, and the Seikhs, celebrated not only for their horsemanship but for their skill with the tulwar, behaved with the utmost gallantry. One by one they were cut down or disarmed, and the fire, which had continued with more or less intermission upon White's Brigade, was at last silenced. Still the cavalry, however, in considerable force, kept possession of the field, and Thackwell at last ordered the decisive charge which settled the fortunes of the day. Having ordered the Scinde Horse with two squadrons of the 9th Lancers to the front, he gave the order, and, led by the gallant Malcolm, they burst like a whirlwind upon the foe.

Nothing could withstand the terrific impetus of that onset-men and horses went down before it like corn beneath the scythe of the reaper. Of all the exploits performed on that day, this was undoubtedly the most brilliant affair; and when it was concluded, the general, riding up to the officer in command, thanked him warmly for the brilliant achievement. This exploit being accomplished, the right wing of the enemy gave way. They were hotly pressed by the 9th Lancers, with a division of light cavalry, and a tremendous slaughter ensued. An ample vengeance was taken on that day for the disaster of Chillianwallah, which indeed would, in all probability, never have occurred had a similar caution been exercised, and the bayonet less trusted to than the cannon. During the pursuit many instances of individual heroism took place, which I need scarcely pause to enumerate; hand-to-hand encounters were of frequent occurrence, and of the sixty pieces of artillery which were opposed to us a large proportion fell into our hands. The devotion of the Seikh gunners was remarkable; with flames bursting around them, the atmosphere thick with bullets, and the bayonets at their very breasts, they never for an instant swerved from their posts, and died beside the guns they had defended so well.

So sanguine had been the enemy's anticipation of success that many of the killed were found supplied with nails for the purpose of spiking the guns, which they had made up their account to capture; and had the chiefs displayed the courage evinced by the common soldiers, we should have found the work more troublesome than we did, but early in the action they left their posts and fled precipitately towards the river Jhelum, on the very first charge of the British cavalry.

The victory being complete, we bivouacked on the field; an hospital was soon established, and every attention given to our own wounded as well as to those of the enemy.

CHAPTER XX.-A SCENE.

I AWOKE on the following morning, feeling a greater sense of fa

tigue than I had before experienced. The field was thickly strewn with miserable relics of the preceding day's combat. The dead lay in heaps, in every variety of posture-some with their muskets in their hands, as if they were in the act of discharging them; others with their tulwars firmly grasped. But upon the countenances of them all there was observable that calm and placid expression of content which I have so frequently observed distinguishes those who meet with a violent and a sudden death.

As I strolled along, making my observations, I fell in with a little knot of officers who were occupied in discussing the details of the action. I joined them, and soon found that the conduct of a certain dragoon regiment formed the principal topic of their conversation.

"I must confess," said an infantry officer, whose name was unknown to me, "that I think they might have done a little more to obliterate the recollection of what happened at Chillianwallah.” "But was it possible?"

"Of course it was.

Gilbert afforded the Colonel an opportunity

which he may never have again as long as he lives."

"As how, may I ask?"

"Why, just before the turning point of the action came, when a large body of the Seikhs was menacing our flank, Gilbert said to the Colonel, Now, Doherty, make a dash at those fellows.'"

"Well, and did he not?"

"No; he replied that his orders were to remain in the position he then occupied.

"Well, but I give you permission,' said the General.

"I cannot disobey orders,' was the Colonel's reply.

"But I give you leave; now is your time.'

"It is quite out of the question.'

"Now," said Linton, who was standing near, "I entertain very considerable doubts that anything of the kind ever took place."

It so happened that I had been in a position sufficiently near to know what had actually occurred; and without the least idea that I was committing any indiscretion, I at once stated the full extent of my knowledge, which went far to confirm the substance of what had just been stated.

The words had scarcely been out of my mouth, when a deep voice close behind me exclaimed, with an imprecation I cannot repeat, "It's a lie!"

I turned in an instant and there stood, at my elbow, an officer of the very regiment about which we had been speaking so freely-I shall call him Captain Brown.

I do not remember ever feeling placed in a position of more painful embarrassment. Wantonly to have given offence was far from my intention, but as the words had been spoken, to retract or qualify them I felt was out of the question. Turning, therefore, quietly round, I looked the dragoon full in the face, and quietly asked him if he had intended that observation to apply to me.

"To any one-to every one who dares to assert aught that can in the slightest degree be considered derogatory of the regiment to which I have the honour to belong."

"I have merely stated what fell within my own observation, and I ask you again do you apply the epithet which has just fallen from you to what I have said?"

"Most distinctly I do."

"Then I must only give you this," and as I spoke I drew from my note-case a card, which having handed to him, I slowly departed in the direction of my quarters.

CHAPTER XXI.

I HAD not been long in my tent before I was joined by the tall Major. "I am come, Sabretasch," said he, "to offer you my humble services in this affair; from what I have heard it would appear that no blame whatever can attach to you."

"Thank you, Major, I have got into a little difficulty, how I can scarcely tell; but as far as I can see there is but the one way out of it." "And that is-"

"To send a message, of course."

"I can see no alternative; if a quarrel is forced upon a man, he must go through with it, so as to make people cautious for the future. You have evidently been fixed upon, probably because you were the least disposed wantonly to offer offence."

"Well," said I, "whatever is to be done, let it be arranged as speedily as possible."

"I will be back with you in half-an-hour," said the Major, putting on his cap.

The time which I had to pass in the absence of my friend was not destined to be solitary. Every moment brought some one of my brother officers to visit me, and I soon discovered that the feeling respecting the conduct of Captain Brown was one of unmixed condemnation. This, however, was but slender consolation.

We had not to remain long in suspense, for even in less time than he had promised the Major returned, and we all rushed to the door to receive him.

"It's all right, my boys," he said.

"How have you managed?"

"You meet at sunset. Every attempt to arrange matters amicably has been in vain; and now, my boys, you must leave us together." When my friends had taken their departure, the Major turned to me. "What sort of shot are you, Sabretasch? "Fairish-nothing particular."

"Were you ever out?"

Except snipe-shooting, never."

"Well, you have nothing to do but to look steadily at your man; leave him as small a surface as possible, and fire the instant the word is given."

"What shall we do for pistols?"

"I have a lovely pair of saw handles, they are at your service; I have desired my servant to fetch them here."

The few arrangements which it was necessary to make nearly occupied the time which remained on our hands, and a little before the appointed hour we arrived at the place where the meeting had been

arranged to take place. Steps were soon heard approaching, and the captain of dragoons appeared. He lifted his cap to salute us, and then assumed an attitude of careless unconcern.

"I suppose all further efforts to arrange this unpleasant business are in vain said the Major.

"We were asked here to fight, and here we are," replied Mr. Trevylyan, who had accompanied my opponent to the ground.

"Just so," said the Major, with a quiet smile ; suppose, then, we measure the ground."

"Twelve paces-I presume that is your distance?"

"I will step them," said the Major.

This ceremony having been satisfactorily accomplished, the two held a conference together, the purport of which I could not catch, but it was evident some difference existed between them. It ended, however, by Trevylyan coming forward with a rupee in his hand.

"Now, Major," said he, "you shall call for your friend."

As he spoke he tossed the piece of money high in the air, and eagerly darted upon it as it fell to the ground.

“Tail!” shouted the Major, "and tail it is.”

"Now," he said, grasping me tightly by the arm, "you have won the first shot. For heaven's sake, be cool; you have only to raise your pistol halfway up, in a straight line from your foot, and fire the instant we give the word. Be steady!"

"Are you ready?" shouted Trevylyan.

"Quite ready."

"Take your ground then!

We took our places accordingly; the two seconds moved to a little distance; my antagonist buttoned his coat up to the chin, and turned his side face towards me.

"You are both ready?" said Trevylyan.

"Ready!"

"Then fire!"

The last word was lost in the report of my pistol. For a moment after I could distinguish nothing, but when the smoke cleared away, I saw Captain Brown stretched on the grass, with his second bending anxiously over him. I was struck with terror. "Good God! have I

killed him?" I gasped.

"No!" said the Major, seizing my hand, "you have only planted a bullet in the cap of his knee, and spoiled his dancing for a while."

"Thank Heaven!"

"So you may, for if you had missed him you were a dead man. That was the reason I insisted upon tossing for the first shot; had he won it, or had you missed him, you would never have seen to-morrow's sun. They are sore about Chillianwallah, and Brown had registered a vow he would put a stop to the thing for ever."

EXTRACTS FROM THE JOURNALS OF THE LATE MAJOR EDWARD MACREADY.

(Continued from page 528, No. 313.)

FIFTH TRIP IN CEYLON, 1833.

We were admirably shaded; and though the forest was crossed by elephant paths in all directions, we heard no sound or sign of life within it, except a few grunts from a displeased and querulous monkey, and the frequent single, solitary cry of a bird which seems sent into the woods of Ceylon to soliloquise undisturbed and unregarded. It would seem that this was not the elephant season in this quarter. Leeches were stirring, but not in numbers. We arrived, after three hours' heavy walking, at Doonatabowey-an open space of some hundred square yards, in which the ruins of a branch-made shed denoted a halting place. A brawling stream, which came down parallel to the path, turned at right angles, forming a pool at its bend, and ran down a vista of some hundred yards. We lounged, reclined in rustic state upon the masses of stone, till dusk, when our coolies arrived. The thermometer, at 3 P.M., was 76° in the shade and 70° in the water. Our tent being pitched, we exhorted the followers to make branch huts, and proceeded with the important business of dinner. It was nearly as cold as the peak. We had a heavenly snooze, and it really was hard to get up next morning. However, we started at a quarter past seven (thermometer at sunrise, 45 degs.), and, crossing the stream, ascended a little, and then came down an infernal fall of the mountain, as steep as it well could be, the path for several hundred yards having been originally made of fascines staked in steps up the straight hill side. Marshall calls these "a succession of walking sticks stuck firmly in the ground, and bundles of rods laid horizontally between them." It must be very tiresome to go up; but in descending, one only laughs and catches at a stake as one's leg goes driving down through two or three of the faggots at once. At the bottom of this is a little open spot, with long lemon grass, and a stream, called Allowey by some of our people and Caloogatan by others. Here we seemed to be well over the very objectionable mountain more than once mentioned, as, after progressing across three or four ridges, with their intervening brooks, we saw, close on our left, but well above us, a triple-peaked hill called Laxapomakande, which we had seen from the peak across the other, and we were now crossing its shoots.

A well-defined path struck off at right angles from ours to the right, and we were told it was the road by which the Ouna pilgrims came. I suppose it comes from Dimbola, and joins the old Nuwera-ellia road. The roar of waters here is very loud. Soon after passing it we came to some felled trees, and at nine o'clock emerged at once from the forest into a clearing; and going to a hut a few paces to our right, looked from a rocky terrace on the broken and roaring course of the Maskelli close below us, with its valley open for miles in the direction of our route. Across the river was the steep mountain, with its bare top, stretching away to the right of the stream till it turned with it at its bend, as if on purpose to give us the pleasure of crossing it to get to Ambe