* Of the 27th Bengal Infantry.
"Bosh!" added the hakim; "your General Elphinstone, sahib, blew his trumpets and beat his drums before Cabul, like a hen that cackles when she has laid an egg. It was with him, as it is too often with the hen—premature exultation; for as little may become of the egg as has become of his army—for the former, instead of being in time a crowing cock, may become sauce, pillau, or pudding!"
The snow passed rapidly away; the weather became pleasant and warm, and though Denzil saw nothing of the Khan, from his window he could see the ladies of his household in the garden below, where as usual with the upper class of Afghans, they spent much of their time in chatting among the bowers, talking scandal and listening to the songs of an occasional wandering musician, who played the saringa, or native guitar. It was once, while sitting listlessly looking into this garden, that Denzil had his hopes of succour from the Shah, crushed for ever.
No ladies appeared that day, but he perceived Shireen Khan, to whom another Kuzzilbash was speaking, gesticulating violently, and as they drew nearer his window, which was on the third, or upper story of the zuna-khaneb, he could overhear their conversation.
The stranger, Zohrab Zubberdust, now a Hazirbash, in the Body Guard of Ackbar Khan, was a handsome but fierce looking young man, with a high aquiline nose, heavy black moustache, and a face of almost European fairness. He had a tall plume in his scarlet cap, which was braided with gold; but, as the hilt of his sword, and the right sleeve of his yellow camise of quilted silk, were thickly spotted with blood, it was evident that he had been concerned in some recent outrage. There was sternness on his brow, a sneering expression on his lips, and a wild glitter in his eyes, as he said in a mocking tone,
"Khan, what mean you by this indignation? Solomon had seven hundred wives, and old Shah Sujah, whom the queen of Feringhistan sought to befriend, had one hundred more, because he deemed himself wiser than Solomon; but with all his wisdom, where is he now?"
"In Cabul."
"No—on the road near Shah Shakeed—dead."
"Dead, say you?"
"Yes; dead as that Solomon of whom I spoke—dead as a dog!" he added savagely.