'Everyone cut off as close as a whistle! By Jove, colonel, we'll have to be up and doing something,' said Algy Redhaven, the hussar, as he lounged, pipe in mouth, and hands in the pockets of his pyjamas, into the tent of old Spatterdash.
The early summer months had been passed peacefully and pleasantly by our embassy at Cabul, notwithstanding the petty insults and annoyance we have already referred to. In the cool, breezy morning, when the sun was coming up above the hills that look down on the clear, shallow, and rapid Cabul flowing towards the Indus; or in the evening, when he was setting behind the summits of the Haft Kotal, Sir Louis Cavagnari, attended by Colville and others, escorted by a few of the Guide Corps, rode through the city to view places of interest in the neighbourhood, sometimes towards the Chardeh Valley eastward, or the plains of Killa-Kazi on the west.
Their quarters in the picturesque and ancient Bala Hissar were rendered as comfortable as furniture of English style and make—relics of Elphinstone's slaughtered army and plundered cantonments—could make them; but the walls of the rooms were scribbled over with ribald pencillings, anti-English hits and insolent political allusions there was no mistaking, left there by members of the late Russian mission; while 'from the Ameer himself, as from the commandant, dalis of fruit and vegetables, fish, milk, and sweetmeats were daily provided; and whatever Cabul could offer in the way of entertainment or amusement was readily forthcoming.'
All seemed so peaceful, and the chances of renewed hostility so remote, that Colville was about to make arrangements for quitting the Embassy, resigning his appointment, and procuring an escort through the passes to Lundi Khani Khotal in the Kurram Valley on his homeward way.
He also intended to take with him Robert Wodrow. The latter had changed greatly of late for the better. In his face, that which had been mere good looks had deepened into earnestness of purpose in every feature. If, under the heat of the summer sun, his cheek was browner and less round, his mouth, in expression, was a trifle harder and more set, changes indicative of one who was aware that he had his way in the world to hew out, and due to Colville's influence, presence, and friendly encouragement.
He found him one day whistling loudly while grooming his horse in the stables of the Bala Hissar.
'Wodrow, old man,' said Colville, laughingly, 'by Jove, I am glad to hear you whistling. Your lips seemed only capable of sighing once. But the air you indulge in is a sad one.'
'It is "The Birks of Invermay," sir. I was thinking as usual of old times, and of those from whom we are so far away.'
'Many a thousand miles, even as the crow flies.'
All remained, to all appearance, peaceful, we say, at Cabul, till one fatal morning, about eight o'clock, when the Turkistani and Ordal Regiments, consisting of several battalions in the Ameer's army, were mustered for arrears of pay in one of the stately courts of the Bala Hissar.