letter. At that time the foreign mail went out fortnightly,
alternately from Bombay and Calcutta. I happened to be rather
behindhand with my letters, and was very busily engaged in office
until about 6 o'clock in the evening, when I ventured outside to go to
the post office, by which time the fury of the storm had almost spent
itself. Although confined indoors without any actual knowledge of the
awful destruction that was going on, I was not altogether devoid of a
certain degree of excitement.

The office of the firm with which I was associated was then known as
7, New China Bazar Street, now Royal Exchange Place, and my room,
which had several windows, was on the north side on the first floor.
The wind kept constantly veering round from all points of the compass,
and at one period of the day blew with terrific violence from the
north--right at the back of where I was seated. I got up from time to
time and closely inspected the fastenings of the windows, which, for a
long while, seemed to be all right, but later on I noticed ominous
signs that some of the crossbars were weakening. It then became a
question as to whether and for how long they could continue to
withstand the terrible strain to which they were being subjected, and,
forthwith, I and my co-assistants proceeded to wedge stools and bars
against them, which most providentially had the desired effect. Had
they given way, the place would have been clean swept from end to end
and completely wrecked. In the course of the morning my Burra Sahib,
who was married, and had left his wife all alone in their house, 3,
London Street, was, of course, greatly perturbed and anxious as to her
safety, and at about 11 o'clock he made up his mind to try and get
back home again, and ordered out his buggy. I must confess I felt
horribly nervous at the time, as he was a tall heavily built man, and
it was just a toss-up as to whether he could get through or not. He