May 26th, Wednesday.—A day of calm—positively calm enjoyment. The weather, we were told, was overcast outside, and the thermometer was not at more than 90° in our room, and 130° outside. Baird has severe fever. Alison looks unwholesome, but is pronounced non-contagious. After another Sardanapalitic breakfast, we lie on our charpoys all day, and doze away, with punkahs fanning us, and kuskus-tatties working. At dusk my dooly is brought down, and I am carried down to the mosque in the Serai to dinner. It is hot, and so we do not sit long, and I am carried back to the Fort to bed.

May 27th, Thursday.—The Trunk Road up and down is unsafe. The Commander-in-Chief has literally not a man to escort him down to Cawnpore. A few days back one Ruheem Ali made a dash across the Ganges, out of Rohilcund, with some hundreds of sowars, and in the night came upon a gharry, in which were Major Waterfield and another officer. They cut the former to pieces; the latter had an escape little short of miraculous, after a desperate fight, and got away in the dark. Under these circumstances we shall have to stay here for some little time.

Poor Hodson's horses and guns, which were left here, were sold by auction early this morning in the Fort. Some handsome swords and good guns went cheap enough; but the horses were all well sold.