The bungalows of the officers, the mess houses of the troops, and all
the buildings between the native lines and Meerut were fired, and the
whole became a roaring conflagration, whose glare at night was visible
for miles.

When an appeal was made to the Emperor of Delhi by the troopers, he
inquired their errand. The lacklustre eyes flashed with a light that
had not been seen in them for years, the bowed form acquired new
energy, and he gave orders to admit the troopers.

Their message was enough to fan into life the slumbering fires of
ambition in the breast of a dying person.

He yielded to the dazzling dream. A throne of silver, laid away for
years, was brought into the "hall of special audience," and the
tottering form was helped to the seat, into which he sank and looked
around upon his frenzied followers. Mohammed Suraj-oo-deen Shah Gezee
was now the Great Mogul of India. A royal salute of twenty-one guns
was fired by two troops of artillery from Meerut in front of the
palace, and the wild multitudes again strained their throats. To the
thunder of artillery, the strains of martial music and the shouting of
the people, the gates of the palace were flung open, and Prince Mirza
Mogul, with his brother, Prince Abu Beker, at the head of the royal
bodyguard, rode forth, the king following in an open chariot,
surrounded by his bodyguard.

With impressive slowness this strange procession made its way through
the principal street, the populace becoming as frantic as so many ghost
dancers. Finally a halt was made at the Juma Musjeed, the largest