that his anxiety on this head became generally known. Amongst others it reached the ears of one Thomas Henry Kavanagh, a clerk in one of the civil offices. Kavanagh at once communicated to Outram his readiness to assume the rôle. To all appearance there were few men less qualified than Kavanagh to escape detection. For he was a fair man, much taller than the general run of the natives of Oudh, and his red hair glittered like gold. On the other hand, he possessed a courage that nothing could daunt, a perfect knowledge of the native patois, and a will of iron. No one loved a brave man more than Outram. The offer made by Kavanagh was an offer after his own heart. But, humane beyond the ordinary run of men, he hesitated to expose a fellow-creature to almost certain death. Whatever doubts he may have entertained on this head were, however, dissipated after his first interview with Kavanagh. In him he recognised a man whose innate pluck and iron resolution would carry him through all dangers. He accepted, therefore, his offer, and bade him prepare for his enterprise.
Kavanagh then had his hair and his skin stained with lamp-black; the hair he also cut short. Then, donning the dress of a Badmásh — a native 'swashbuckler,' a type very common in those days — he set out, on the evening of the 9th of November, accompanied by a native spy of proved fidelity, Kanáují Lál by name.
Mr Kavanagh subsequently published an account[1] of his journey, which may yet be read with deep interest. It was not without its alarms. He did not reach the Álambágh that night, but, on the morning of the 10th, he fell in with a party of the Panjáb cavalry, and this party conducted him to Sir Colin, who, as we have seen, had reached the plain beyond Banní bridge the previous evening.
- ↑ How I Won the Victoria Cross, Ward & Lock. After a somewhat chequered career, Kavanagh died in St Thomas's Hospital in 1883.
