The city had for years suffered under the horrible tyranny of Shah Kamran, now an old and feeble man, and of his wuzeer or minister, Yar Mahomed Khan, who held the post of governor of the city. Under these men neither life nor property was respected; men and women were seized and sold into slavery under the smallest pretext, often without any attempt whatever to justify the action. Armed bands of ruffians broke into the houses and plundered at their will, and the peaceful portion of the population were in a state of utter misery and despair.
On entering the gate, Angus proceeded along the bazaar, an arched street about a mile long, which extended from one side of the city to the other. This was crossed at right angles by another bazaar of equal length, and the city, which was built in the form of a square, was thus divided into four quarters. Round the wall was a wide ditch, which was at all times kept full of water from springs rising in the town.
When he had proceeded some distance, Angus heard two traders in one of the shops speaking in Armenian. He at once entered. "Effendi," he said in that language, "I am a stranger here and but newly arrived. Can you tell me where I can procure a lodging?"
The two men looked in surprise at this Afghan peasant who addressed them in their own tongue, and one of them, after a moment's hesitation, bade him come into his private apartment behind the shop.
"Who are you?" he said; "and how come you to speak our language?"
"I learned it in conversation with some of your people in Tabriz, and especially from one who was the British vice-consul there. I also speak Persian and Arabic."
The trader's surprise increased as Angus spoke. "But who are you, then, who have travelled so far, and how is it that having learned so many languages you are now here as a peasant?"
"It is a disguise," Angus said. "My father was a British merchant at Tabriz, and I myself am in the service of the British minister at Teheran, and am the bearer of a letter from him to Shah Kamran."
"You are young indeed, my son, to be engaged on so difficult and dangerous a mission. Surely I can find you a lodging. All trade is at a stand-still now, and we Armenians suffer like the rest. My brother, whom you saw in the shop, is a weaver of carpets; but none will buy carpets now. He has a house larger than his needs, and would, I am sure, gladly take you in."