but they can always hope to get through somehow; but the man with a wife
and children in India, at the time when a general outbreak was
anticipated, would have the deepest cause for anxiety. Not, however, that
at this time any one at Sandynugghur looked for anything so terrible.
There was a spirit of insubordination abroad in the native troops, no
doubt, but no one doubted but that it would, with more or less trouble, be
put down. And so things went on as usual, and the garden parties and the
drives, and the friendly evening visiting continued just as before. It was
at one of these pleasant evening gatherings that the first blow fell. Most
of the officers of the station, their wives, and the two or three
civilians were collected at Major Warrener's. The windows were all open.
The girls were playing a duet on the piano; five or six other ladies were
in the drawing-room and about the same number of gentlemen were standing
or sitting by them, some four or five were lounging in the veranda
enjoying their cheroots; native servants in their white dresses moved
noiselessly about with iced lemonade and wine, when a Sepoy came up the
walk.

"What is it?" asked Major Warrener, who was one of the group in the
veranda.

"Dispatch for the colonel, Sahib."

The colonel, who was sitting next to the major, held out his hand for the
message, and was rising, when Major Warrener said:

"Don't move, colonel; boy, bring a candle."

The servant brought it: the colonel opened the envelope and glanced at the
dispatch. He uttered an exclamation which was half a groan, half a cry.