Angus went in the evening and requested a private interview with Saleh. As Johnson had told him in his note, the Afghan had already been revolving in his mind whether he could not do better for himself by halting at Bamian until he knew how affairs would turn out at Cabul. Johnson, who had become very intimate with him on the journey, had said casually that the British government would assuredly pay a large sum for the return of the captives. He had taken no notice of the remark at the time, but had thought a good deal of it. He knew that money had been lavishly spent among the chiefs, and it seemed to him that he too might have a share in the golden flood.
He was a shrewd man as well as an unscrupulous one. He had three times before deserted his employers when better offers had been made to him, and it seemed to him that he had it now in his power to procure a sum that would make him rich for life. He had been told by his sub-officers that there was a growing disaffection among the men, that many of them openly grumbled at the prospect of the journey to Khooloom, and that some of the Bamian petty chiefs had been going among them, and, they believed, stirring up a feeling against the journey. He had from the first entertained some suspicion of this Cashmerian trader. Why should he not have bought a larger store of Indian goods to exchange with the Turkomans?
His doubt as to the best course to pursue had been heightened at the news that he had received that afternoon. What would happen if the British again settled down at Cabul? They would doubtless send a force to endeavour to rescue the captives. And although he might be at Khooloom before they did so, his situation would then be a most unpleasant one. Akbar, as a fugitive, could no longer pay him and his troops; they would, of course, leave him, and he would not dare to return to Cabul. He was thinking over these matters when Angus was ushered in. The latter had already decided that he would for the present maintain the character that he had assumed. If Saleh knew that he was a British officer he would assuredly, if he remained faithful to his charge, arrest him also; but as merely the agent of Mohun Lal, one of the most influential men in Cabul, the Afghan would probably allow him to depart unharmed, even if he refused the offered bribe.
"I have not come to you this evening to talk of merchandise, Saleh Mahomed," Angus began. "I have come upon a more important matter. As you know, the troops from Jellalabad have defeated Akbar, and are making their way up through the passes. They will defeat him again if he fights them. The troops from Candahar have reached Ghuznee, and assuredly there is no force that can arrest their progress to Cabul. I have only waited for this to speak openly to you. I am sent here by Mohun Lal. He authorizes me to promise you, in his name and that of General Pollock, a pension of a thousand rupees a month, and a gift of thirty thousand rupees, if you will hold the prisoners here until a British force arrives to carry them back to Cabul."
The Afghan showed no surprise. "I suspected," he said, "all along that you had come here for some other motive than trade. What guarantee does Mohun Lal offer that these terms shall be fulfilled?"
"It would not have been safe for him to have entrusted such a message to paper," Angus said, "but he gives you his word."
"Words are no guarantee," Saleh said, "especially the word of a chief."
"I would suggest, Saleh Mahomed, that you have it in your power to obtain a guarantee that even you will acknowledge to be a binding one. You have in your hands three men whose names are known throughout Afghanistan and through India as those of men of honour. You have Major Pottinger, Captain Lawrence, and Mr. Mackenzie, all men whose word would be accepted unhesitatingly to whatever promise they might make. They and the other officers would, I am sure, give you a written guarantee that the offer made by Mohun Lal shall be confirmed and carried out by the government of India."
"What should I do with money without employment?"