I, therefore, sent for Murad and asked him if he would sell his straw, telling him that Jiand had refused to do business with me. The old fellow assured me I could have all the straw I wanted, and that I could have it for nothing. Of course I refused his generosity, told him I would pay him what I had offered Jiand, and instructed him to get it ready as soon as possible, when I would send my camels to bring it in.
Before Murad, who was obviously delighted with such a good piece of business, departed he gave me a word of warning which fully confirmed all I had heard of Halil Khan's and Jiand's smouldering enmity.
"If they can kill you, Sahib, they will. And they will most surely fight against you and try to kill you before many weeks are past."
It was about this date that repeated confirmations reached me of Shah Sawar's persistent treachery. Up to the present I had elected to ignore the incident of his letters to the Germans. They had never reached their destinations, so no harm had been done so far. It had been my constant wish, despite all the warnings I had received, to make friends with the Yarmahommedzais. But it was now time, I considered, to take some notice of Shah Sawar's activities, and this seemed a suitable moment to charge him bluntly concerning his traffic with the Germans.
Accordingly he was summoned to appear before a drum-head court martial consisting of myself and two other officers, to be tried for repeated acts of treachery, and particularly for communication with the Germans, coupled with the information supplied to the same quarter that I had few troops, and that, if they (the Germans) came to the Sarhad it would be easy for them, with his help, to overwhelm my whole force.
As usual, Shah Sawar swore he was innocent of all these charges and pointed out that it was obvious he could not possibly have been guilty, as he could not write.
Then I played a trump card, for I produced the mullah (priest) who had written the letters at his dictation, and who had wandered, a day or so before, into the camp.
When Shah Sawar caught sight of the mullah he shrugged his shoulders and muttered, "Kismet." He knew the game was up, confessed at once that he had dictated the letters, and had put his mark to them.
There was naturally only one sentence that could be passed upon him, and he knew it. He was found guilty and condemned to be shot. He implored me to give him another chance, but I was tired of his broken promises, and told him flatly that he had offended once too often. He had been convicted by a duly constituted court martial, and the finding of the court must stand. I told him also that his time was short, and advised him to write any farewell messages he wanted to send, and to make his will as quickly as possible. The mullah was also given leave to write anything that Shah Sawar wished to dictate.
As I passed from the tent I gazed hard at Shah Sawar. The sweat was pouring down his face—few men can hear the sentence of immediate death without emotion of some sort—but he did not utter a sound. It must be admitted that he bore himself like a man, as, with a gesture of resignation, he told the mullah he wanted him to start writing at once.