ecrecy,
for I feared that if our intention to rescue the lady became known she
would be carried off. As day broke we searched the surrounding crops,
and found the villagers and some soldiers hidden amongst them. They
one and all denied that there was the slightest truth in the story,
and as it appeared a waste of time to further prosecute the fruitless
search, we were on the point of starting to rejoin our camp, when
there was a cry from our troopers of '_Mem sahib hai!_' (Here is the
lady), and presently an excessively dusky girl about sixteen years of
age appeared, clad in Native dress. We had some difficulty in getting
the young woman to tell us what had happened; but on assuring her that
no harm should be done to those with whom she was living, she told us
that she was the daughter of a clerk in the Commissioner's office at
Sitapur; that all her family had been killed when the rising took
place at that station, and that she had been carried off by a sowar to
his home. We asked her if she wished to come away with us. After some
hesitation she declined, saying the sowar had married her (after the
Mahomedan fashion), and was kind to her, and she had no friends and
relations to go to. On asking her why she had sent to let us know she
was there, she replied that she thought she would like to join the
British force, which she heard was in the neighbourhood, but on
further reflection she had come to the conclusion it was best for
her to remain where she was. After talking to her for some time, and
making quite sure she was not likely to change her mind, we rode
away, leaving her to her sowar, with whom she was apparently quite
content.[6] I need hardly say we got unmercifully chaffed on our
return to camp, when the result of our expedition leaked out.

At Somna, where we halted for the night, we heard that the Mahomedan
insurgents, the prisoners released from gaol, and the rebel Rajputs of
the neighbourhood, were prepared to resist our advance on Aligarh, and
that they expected to be aided by a large number of mutineers from
Delhi. We came in sight of Aligarh shortly before daybreak on the 5th
October. Our advance was stopped by a motley crowd drawn up before
the walls, shouting, blowing horns, beating drums, and abusing the
Feringhis in the choicest Hindustani; but, so far as we could see,
there were no sepoys amongst them. The Horse Artillery coming up,
these valiant defenders quickly fled inside the city and closed the