We arrived at Kabul on a Sunday morning, in March, 1892. It was a proud day for the Armenian as he rode through the bazaar with his solar helmet on one side—no miserable native turban for him now. His hand was on his hip and his elbow pointed outwards: his uplifted head desired to strike the stars. With a lofty pity, not unmingled with contempt, he gazed around at the admiring faces of the salaaming Kabulis. Was he not a traveller of renown: one who had crossed the great river and penetrated to the very heart of the Feringhi country!
Mr. Walter, the tailor, rode out to meet us; he said to the Armenian:
“Well, did you like London?”
“Sir, what d’you think! But London is very good place for rich man, very bad place for poor man. Kabul is good for poor man.”
“What did you do in London?” asked Mr. Walter.
“O, Sir! A little I walk this way and that, and upon ladies I pinch eyes.”
By this I fancy he must have meant he winked. It was a revelation to me, and I looked at him severely. What other remarkable development might I not detect!
I heard from Mr. Walter that the two engineers, Messrs. Stewart and Myddleton, had departed, and their places were taken by two Scotchmen. Mr. Pyne had gone to England on leave and had not yet returned. He was to bring out several other Englishmen.
The Armenian had the house swept out, the carpets down, and everything straight in a very short time. Several people called in the afternoon. Some of the Armenian’s relatives: the Compounder; and some Afghans whom I knew. I found half-a-dozen letters waiting for me, one from my wife, whereat I rejoiced, and one from a lady missionary in India who wished to enter the Amîr’s service as medical attendant upon the Harem.
I had met another lady in Peshawur who also wished to enter the Amîr’s service. She was attached to the Afghan Mission in that town, and spoke Persian, Pushtu, and Hindustani, and had had some medical training. She told me she was intending to travel to Kabul, in disguise, with the Koffla, the travelling merchants. She was young, and I endeavoured to point out some of the dangers she would be exposed to from Afghan ruffians, and did my best to dissuade her from such a rash undertaking. It seemed to me the conception was an utterly mad one, but that if she desired greatly to enter the service the best thing would be to write and apply to His Highness. However, she did not write that I know of.