* Mounted couriers.
With a low salaam to Ackbar, after all turning their faces in the direction of Mecca, they now separated, and in a few minutes, the sound of their horses' hoofs died away, some in the direction of the city, and others on the Candahar road.
"Sahib," said Mohammed Khan, greatly disturbed, "you have heard?"
"More than I quite understand," replied Denzil; "however, I shall report the affair to the General in the morning; those fellows are evidently up to something more than either he or the Envoy quite calculate upon. I only wish that I were nearer my quarters."
"I have promised to guide you."
"Thanks, Khan; you are most kind."
All around the tomb and mosque of Baber was still and silent again; the cooing of the pigeons and the gurgle of the sacred fountain alone were heard. The quiet stars, and their queen, the vast round silver moon, were shining now in peace and calmness over Cabul; over city, plain, and flowing river; and in floods of liquid light, the picturesque towers and masses of the Bala Hissar stood forth pale and grey, while the curtain walls between, were sunk in shadow or obscurity.
Glad to befriend in any way an English officer, the Wuzeer guided Denzil between the Armenian and the Mussulman burying-grounds, where the shadows of the tall and ghost-like cypresses fell on the white headstones and the little square chambers or cupolas that covered the graves of those of rank.
"Listen," said Denzil, pausing, as he suspected the Arab Hadji might still be following; "surely I hear a sound."
"You hear only the night wind sighing through yonder cypresses," replied Taj Mohammed, solemnly; "sadly it goes past us bearing some weary soul, perhaps, to the bridge of Al-sirat—some soul whose earthly tabernacle may yet lie there, where five of my children are laid, each with its fair face turned towards Mecca."