The Chaplain's exclamation of surprise was echoed by several Englishmen whom curiosity had drawn around.
"You don't mean Afghans!" cried the commissariat-officer.
"I do mean Afghans," replied Walter, smiling. "There are four women and three men in a fort on yonder height, quite ready to become members of a Christian community."
"I should expect bears and wolves to become Christians before Pathans," laughed a young ensign, who was not a Christian himself.
"Time is precious," said Walter, turning to the Chaplain and gently pressing his point; "I would not have you descend a difficult road in darkness. We can offer you refreshment above. I should be very grateful, Mr. Coldstream, if you could come with me at once."
"We'll come in a party!" cried the merry ensign; "one does not come across such an adventure as this every day."
"Excuse me, sir," said Walter, courteously but firmly; "a British uniform would create suspicion and alarm. Not many of our mountaineers have embraced the Christian faith, and most of them barely tolerate its profession. I promised that I would bring a clergyman, if I could find one—but bring him alone."
"This is really a foolhardy proceeding, Mr. Coldstream," expostulated an elder officer; "you are not likely to be suffered to come back alive."
"I assure you, sir, that there is no danger, or none that would weigh a grain in the balance with a labourer for Christ," said Walter Gurney. "Two of those who are candidates for baptism in the fort are the chief and his wife."
"A miracle! a miracle!" exclaimed the ensign.