It was a strange scene, and picturesque in all its details.
On one side a few fair-faced English officers in full uniform, with glass in eye and cigarette in mouth, cool, quiet, and secretly rather disposed to "chaff the niggers"—men of that type of whom Bob Waller might be taken as the representative, frank, fearless, and light-hearted, with his honest blue eyes and those long, fair whiskers which Mabel Trecarrel thought so adorable—quite as much so as he deemed her tresses of ruddy, golden auburn; on the other, a horde of those hardy warriors from the hills of Kohistan—men whose ideas were beyond the middle ages of the world's history, with their hearts full of proud disdain, rancorous hate, and all the malignant treachery that adversity of race, religious fanaticism, and profound ignorance can inspire, and yet suavely dissembling for the time.
"Permit me, Khan, to present you with this horse, in the name of Her Majesty the Queen of England, with her wishes that you may long be spared to ride him," said Sir William Macnaghten, with a profound salaam, after he and his companions drew close to the carpet on which Ackbar awaited them. He then alighted from his horse and seated himself, together with Captains Trevor, Lawrence, and Mackenzie, upon a piece of carpet, among the chiefs and sirdars; but, luckily for themselves, Waller, Denzil, and the rest remained in their saddles, at a little distance. The Sirdir coldly and haughtily thanked the Envoy for his new gift, the points of which he praised with all a horseman's perception. It cost Sir William 3000 rupees, and had belonged to Captain Grant, the Assistant Adjutant-General. Then with an eye to any confusion that might ensue during the Conference, he ordered the Hindoo syce to lead it off at once towards the city, and a sly, cruel gleam came into his black eyes, as this was done. After a few solemn salutations in oriental fashion and phraseology, Ackbar Khan said—
"Bismillah! let us talk."
All the chapters in the Koran, except nine, commence with this word, which signifies, "In the name of the merciful God;" thus it is incessantly used in conversation by the Arabs, and still more by the somewhat canting Afghans.
He then proceeded to business at once, by asking the Envoy if he was prepared to effect a proposition that had before been made, to the effect that we should deliver up the Shah Sujah, with all his household and family, male and female, to his—the Sirdir's—mercy; that we should lay down our arms and colours, yielding also cannon and horses, together with those two obnoxious sahibs, Sir Robert Sale and Brigadier Shelton, as hostages—in fact, an unconditional surrender—in virtue of which he should graciously pardon our appearance in Afghanistan, our interference with its affairs, and permit our whole force to retire with their lives, on the further condition of swearing to return no more!
"Such proposals," said Sir William, endeavouring to preserve his temper, "are too dishonourable for British troops to entertain. You know not, Sirdir, the men you speak to, and if you persist——"
"Ah, if we persist, what then?"
"We shall simply appeal to arms."
"You Feringhees are proud," said Ackbar, scoffingly; "but Allah punishes the proud and humbles them."