black treachery and foul murder was heard; and when the story was told it
had to be repeated to the officers of the other corps in camp.

The terrible tale soon spread through the camp; and men gnashed their
teeth in rage, and swore bitter oaths--which were terribly kept--to avenge
the deeds that had been committed. Uppermost of all, however, was the
anxiety about the women and children; for the boys had heard, when staying
at the friendly rajah's, that near one hundred and twenty of these
unfortunates--the survivors of the siege, and of the river attack--had
been shut up in a room in the Cawnpore lines.

At three o'clock next morning--the 11th of July--the troops were under
arms, the tents struck, and all in readiness for an advance. Presently a
dull sound was heard; it grew louder, and the head of General Havelock's
column came up.

There was a short halt while Major Renaud reported to the general the
state of affairs in front, as far as he knew them. He mentioned, too, that
two survivors of the Cawnpore massacre had that day come in, and that four
others were in shelter with a native rajah on the Oude side of the Ganges.
The general at once requested that the Warreners should be brought up to
him; and the lads were accordingly presented to the man whose name,
hitherto unknown outside military circles, was--in consequence of the
wonderful succession of battles and of victories, of which that date, the
12th of July, was to mark the first--to become a household word in
England.

"The column had better move forward, Major Renaud; your division will
lead. If you will ride by me, gentlemen, you can tell me of this dreadful
business as we go."