shillings, silk dresses might be had for nothing, and jewelry went for
less than the value of the setting.

The same day the headquarters of the army were removed to the palace of
Delhi. As the Union Jack of England ran up the flagstaff on the palace so
lately occupied by the man crowned by the rebels Emperor of India, the
seat and headquarters of the revolt which had deluged the land with blood,
and caused the rule of England to totter, a royal salute was fired by the
British guns, and tremendous cheers arose from the troops in all parts of
the city.

The raising of that flag, the booming of those guns, were the signal of
the deathblow of the Indian mutiny. Over one hundred thousand rebels were
still in arms against the British government, but the heart of the
insurrection was gone. It was no longer a war, it was a rebellion. There
was no longer a head, a center, or a common aim. Each body of mutineers
fought for themselves--for life rather than for victory. The final issue
of the struggle was now certain; and all the native princes who had
hitherto held aloof, watching the issue of the fight at Delhi, and
remaining neutral until it was decided whether the Sepoys could pluck up
the British flag from the Ridge, or the British tear down the emblem of
rebellion from above the palace of Delhi, hesitated no longer, but
hastened to give in their allegiance to the victorious power.

Nothing has been said as to the part the Warreners bore in that fierce six
days' fighting. They did their duty, as did every other man in the British
army, but they had no opportunity for specially distinguishing themselves.
As staff officers, they had often to carry messages to troops engaged in
stubborn fight, and in doing so to dash across open spaces, and run the
gantlet of a score of musket balls; both, however, escaped without a