fate. But there was one man
who determined to do it, or die in the attempt. His name was Kavanagh.
It was so dangerous a matter that when Sir James Outram heard of his
proposal he declared he would not have asked one of his officers
to attempt the passage. But in the end he accepted the offer, and
Kavanagh prepared for the journey.

Dressing himself as a native soldier, and covering his face and hands
with lampblack, he was so altered in appearance that even his friends
failed to recognise him. Thus disguised, and accompanied by a
native spy named Kunoujee Lal to guide him, he set out. The night,
fortunately, was dark and favoured their design. The first thing they
did was to ford the Goomtee, a river about a hundred yards wide, and
four or five feet deep. Taking off their garments they waded across;
but whilst in the water Kavanagh's courage reached a low ebb, and he
wished himself back again. However, they got to the opposite bank in
safety, and crouching up a ditch found a grove of trees, where they
dressed.

Kavanagh's confidence had now returned, and he felt so sure of his
disguise that he even exchanged a few words with a matchlock-man whom
they met. After going on for about half a mile they reached the iron
bridge over the river, and here they were challenged by a native
officer. Kavanagh kept judiciously in the shade whilst the guide
advanced and answered the questions put to him satisfactorily, and
they were allowed to proceed. A little further they passed through a
number of Sepoys, but these let them go by without inquiry. Having
had the good fortune to get unperceived past a sentry who was closely
questioning a native, they came into the principal street of Lucknow,
jostling against the armed rebels, who would have killed them in a
moment had their suspicion been aroused. But no mishap occurred, and
after being challenged by a watchman they at last found themselves to
their great relief out in the open country.

They were now in the best of spirits, and went along for a few miles
in a state of great gladness. Then came a rude shock. They had taken
the wrong direction, and were returning into the midst of the rebels.
It was an awful awakening for Kavanagh. Suppose the spy after all were
playing him false. It seemed an extraordinary mistake to have made.
Happily it was stupidity not treason that had caused the disastrous
loss of time, and the guide was full of sorrow for his error.

There was nothing now