These people proved to be Amen Oollah Khan, a warrior known as Zohrab Zubberdust (i.e., the overbearing), and others, who had that forenoon pursued Doctor Brydone almost to the gates of Jellalabad, and, on the way, murdered his hapless companion, Doctor Harper, whose horse had failed him within four miles of the city. They were richly accoutred; each had a gilded shield slung on his back, and wore a round steel cap, furnished with a flap of chain-mail covering the neck, and two upright points, like spear heads, that glittered in the starlight.
"Death to the Kaffir! death to the Feringhee!" they cried with one accord.
"I am no Kaffir," replied Walter (standing on the steps of the musjid, and ready to sell his life dearly), "but a Mussulman, like yourselves."
"Liar, and son of a liar! I see the dress of a red Feringhee under your poshsteen," said Amen Oollah, and in succession he, Zohrab, and two others, snapped their matchlocks at him; but they had become so foul by recent and incessant use, that the balls had been forced down with difficulty, the powder and matches were alike damp, and fortunately not one would explode.
"Hah!" said Waller, with great presence of mind, though fearing he might be recognised by Amen Oollah, who had frequently seen him in the streets of Cabul, "you see that the hand of the Prophet interposes, and does not permit you to kill me."
"We shall soon prove that," replied the Khan, unsheathing his sabre; but impressed, nevertheless, by what seemed the genuine belief in fatalism, which is a peculiarity of the Mohammedan faith; so he deliberately placed the edge on Waller's throat, and said—
"To the proof of what you assert. If you are a Mussulman, repeat the Kulma; if in one word, however small, you fail, your head and heels shall lie together on the snow."
Waller had his own sword drawn, and was prepared to run it through the heart of Amen Oollah if he felt himself failing. It was a critical moment; he knew that the edge of an Afghan sabre was sharp as a razor; he felt that he was never born to be a religious martyr; so thinking in his heart—as, perhaps, the great Galileo thought, when in the bonds of the Inquisition—"May God forgive me!" by a little stretch of memory he repeated the entire Kulma, or creed of Mohammed, on which Amen Oollah seemed satisfied, and sheathed his sword. But now Zohrab Zubberdust, a handsome and dashing Afghan gentleman, one of those soldiers of fortune who possessed only his sword and his horse, and thus served Ackbar Khan for three rupees per diem, said,—
"Khan Sahib, how comes a true believer to have a face and beard so fair?"
"A Persian taught me to dye my beard yellow; and as for my face, I am a Turk of Stamboul," replied Waller, boldly.