Two days later they arrived at Bamian. As they entered the little town a native officer of a Ghoorka regiment came out and demanded their business. For the first time Angus was unable to give an answer in the language in which he was addressed. Knowing, however, the purport of the question, he showed his letter to Lieutenant Mackenzie. The native was unable to read English, but called to an English artilleryman, who at once came up. On seeing the letter he motioned to the pretended trader to follow him, and conducted him to the house where Lieutenant Mackenzie lodged.
"There is a man outside who has a letter for you, sir," he said saluting.
"An Englishman?"
"No, sir, one of these traders, I think. He has some horses with packs, and he has a wounded or dead man in a litter."
"Show him in."
Angus on entering said in Persian, "My orders are to deliver this letter to you when alone, sir."
The lieutenant signed to two orderlies, to whom he had at the time been giving orders, and Angus then went on in English: "You do not remember me, Lieutenant Mackenzie. I am Angus Campbell, on the staff of Sir Alexander Burnes."
"Oh, yes, I remember you now," the officer said, rising and shaking him by the hand. "Of course we have met many times, but in that Persian dress I did not know you again. I suppose you have come to see how we are getting on?"
"No. I am on a mission across the mountains to see what Dost Mahomed is really doing there, as you will see by this letter."
The officer glanced through it. "I see you do not want the natives here—there are not many of them—to be asking any questions. Let me see. We are pretty closely packed, as you may imagine. I could give you a room here, but that would hardly do."