In January the frost making the ground so hard and slippery that it was dangerous to ride on horseback, Mr. Collins and I went for long afternoon walks. One day, having made rather a longer round than usual, we arrived at the suburbs of the town just as night fell. It was a part of the town I had never been in before; however, there was a moon, and we had a soldier with us. The streets of Kabul, as I have already said, are not straight and neatly paved and lighted. They are most eccentric in their general arrangement, and are lit by an occasional—a very occasional—oil lamp, a saucer of earthenware with a wick thrown in, which gives but a dim smoky light. There were a great many people about, but few took any notice of us or we of anyone. Occasionally some one would say, “The English Doctor,” or “English,” and though I wore native costume with turban and cloak, Collins was dressed as a European, with fur cap and coat. A few years ago a walk in the dusk in Kabul would certainly have been fatal to two Europeans, but now—we had no weapons and needed none. There seemed really less danger than there would have been in walking through some of the back streets of London.
At the end of February when my three landscapes were finished, I took them, with some drawings that my pupils had finished, to show to the Amîr.
His Highness was occupying a suite of rooms in the Erg Palace that at one time was Prince Habibullah’s Harem Serai. We were shown into a large, well-furnished room with a wood fire burning on the hearth. A small scent-fountain was playing on the table, and the room was crowded with flowers, some cut and some growing in pots. The Amîr being fond of flowers, his Palace is supplied during the winter from Jelalabad, where the climate is always hot.
A Shock.
There were not many people in the room—some half-dozen of the chief officials of the country and several Page boys. The Amîr himself did not look well. He was dark under the eyes and thinner, and he looked as though he had been bled.
I asked if he were not well, and he said he had been troubled with gout.
This gave me a shock, and when I found that he had again called the Hakims to attend him, I at once determined to leave his service at the first opportunity. I had a very vivid recollection of my former experiences under similar circumstances, and had not the slightest desire to have them repeated.
His Highness was very kind and courteous, and he was pleased with the landscapes. He desired me however, to paint two more, one of them to be a view of Paghman, including the Palace and the Harem Serai.
I was surprised at this and far from pleased, for the snow lay thick at Paghman, and sketching there would be an impossibility for weeks to come. I said to His Highness that there were as yet no leaves on the trees, but he said—