Lunch was brought soon after our arrival, and we three English sat at a table by ourselves, being waited upon by the chief Hindustani cook.
After lunch His Highness invited us into a small room opening into the long hall at the opposite end from the lobby. This was a very pretty little room: one side of it was bowed or rounded, and had three large windows in it overlooking the valley. The room was furnished like an English drawing-room, even to the Collard and Collard piano. His Highness asked if either of us could play, and Mr. Pyne sat down and played some hymns. It seemed very strange to hear “Abide with Me” in Afghanistan, among Mussulmans. Shortly after this Mr. Pyne felt rather faint and ill. There was no whisky nor brandy to be had, and the Amîr suggested champagne, but Mr. Pyne thought he would rather go back to the shops. He therefore made his adieux to the Amîr and the Princes; and the Armenian was sent with him. To interpret for me was a Hindustani—a man with more polish of manner than the Armenian.
In the evening we accompanied His Highness and the Princes into the Palace gardens, and arm-chairs were placed for us on the terrace. As soon as it was dark the gardens and the grounds around the foot of the hill were lit up with innumerable little coloured lamps. Rockets were let off from the valley, and we leant back in our chairs and admired.
The Unreliable Interpreter.
Later on we had dinner out in the gardens. Afterwards the engineer, Mr. Myddleton, asked me if we could not leave, as he wanted to get to his work early in the morning. I accordingly told the Hindustani to enquire. He answered that he was sure His Highness wished us to stay the night at Endekki. We were exceedingly doubtful about this: there seemed no reason why we should stay; but the Hindustani was so certain about it that finally we yielded, especially as the Hindustani hinted that probably His Highness would be offended if we asked. The real fact was, as we suspected, that the man wanted to stay himself.
A comfortable little room was given us in a block of buildings attached to the Palace and built on the side of the hill. Charpoys and cigarettes were provided, and waiters attended upon us.
We left directly after breakfast the next morning, the brougham taking us back. Pyne had quite recovered, and was at work in the shops. He took the Engineer to task somewhat for remaining at the Palace all night. I explained how we had been misled by the Interpreter.
This man presently began to pay court to me. He came frequently to see me: was very deferential and polite: wished to teach me Persian; and he dropped occasional innuendoes and slighting remarks about the Armenian. He was always hanging about the Palace whenever I went there, and with a smile edged in a word of correction whenever the Armenian translated. It annoyed me. I did not want his corrections. I quite understood the Armenian, and knew enough Persian to tell whether he were giving me the meaning of the Amîr’s words honestly or not. When, on the other hand, the Hindustani translated my words to His Highness, he spoke such flowery Persian and worked in so much Arabic that I could not follow him. I foresaw trouble, for he was one of those who say the thing which is not.
About this time a box containing presents, that I had written home for from Turkestan, arrived, and I sent to enquire when I might have the honour of laying them before His Highness. A day was appointed; and after I had amputated a man’s leg, which happened to be arranged for the same day, I went to the Erg Palace. His Highness received me most graciously. He was sitting in the Octagonal Hall that contained the pictures of the Houses of Parliament. The portrait that I had painted of His Highness was also hanging there. It had been sent to India to be framed and glazed. The Amîr had had plate glass put over it, ordering a looking glass to be bought large enough and the silver to be scraped off the back.