AJJHAINAH: 
 
 i 
 
 A STOI^OF AFGHA^ LIFE . 
 
 
 
 ' 
 

 
 
 

 
 RUHAINAH
 
 RUHAINAH 
 
 A STORY OF AFGHAN LIFE 
 
 BY 
 
 EVAN STANTON 
 
 CASSELL & COMPANY, LIMITED 
 739 & 741 BROADWAY, New York.
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 
 1886 
 BY O. M. DUNHAM 
 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
 Fress of W. L. Mershon & Co., 
 Rahway, N . J.
 
 DEDICATED 
 
 SISTER LYDIA." 
 
 2228939
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 I. THE RUSTUM OF HERAT, . . i 
 
 II. RUHAINAH, l6 
 
 III. THE MOSQUE, .... 29 
 
 IV. SWEET LITTLE SHAIDY, . . 39 
 V. THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF, . . 50 
 
 VI. THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND, 64 
 
 VII. BERTRAM BERNARD, ... 76 
 
 VIII. MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY, 85 
 
 IX. " SISTER LYDIA," .... 104 
 
 X. RUNNING THE GAUNTLET, . 119 
 
 XI. LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT, . . 133 
 
 XII. SHAIDY'S WEDDING, . . . 147 
 
 XIII. THE POISONED DISH, . . . 163 
 
 XIV. THE OILY HINDU, 181 
 XV. THE GUEST-CHAMBER, . . . 192 
 
 XVI. THE ABDUCTION, . . . 205 
 
 XVII. LOVE'S QUESTIONS, . . . 225 
 
 XVIII. EARTH TO EARTH, . . . 237 
 
 XIX. Is IT LAWFUL ? 242 
 
 XX. WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION, . 255
 
 RUHAINAH. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERAT. 
 
 IT was in the autumn of 1859 that Dost 
 Mohamed, the Ameer of Cabul, was enjoy- 
 ing some degree of repose in the beautiful winter 
 gardens outside the dismantled walls of Jalal- 
 abad. 
 
 The arrival of the great Ameer, with his 
 numerous retinue and extensive seraglio, was 
 an occasion of great excitement in the little 
 town, and its quaint bazar was crowded with 
 motley groups of visitors from far and near. 
 
 Tribesmen from all parts of the neighboring 
 hills came to pay their respects to that 
 popular Ameer, who in spite of British con- 
 quests, had succeeded in establishing the inde-
 
 * RUHAINAH. 
 
 pendence of his country and the stability of his 
 dynasty. 
 
 The Ameer's encampment presented a most 
 picturesque spectacle. That strange admixture 
 of glory, grandeur, and dirt which so charac- 
 terizes everything in the bright but weary 
 East. 
 
 The garden in which the camp was placed 
 was enclosed by a high brick wall, and in the 
 centre of the quadrangle were two chaste white 
 marble cisterns into which played fountains 
 of pure water brought from the Cabul River. 
 Majestic cypresses formed stately groves 
 stretching from the fountains to the entrance 
 gates, while trellised vines encircled the spa- 
 cious area within the gloomy brick walls, and 
 several large spreading peepal trees afforded that 
 shade which is so restful and refreshing in a 
 parched and sunny clime. 
 
 It was under one of these large shady peepals 
 that rich Persian carpets were spread on a 
 raised dais, where every morning tbe ruler of 
 the Afghans, for some three hours, received 
 embassies from tributary tribes, heard appeals, 
 and administered summary justice, very much
 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERA T. 3 
 
 in the same way as it had been done in these 
 historic regions centuries ago. 
 
 The Afghan Ameer, clothed in white flowing 
 robes and wearing a massive white turban on 
 his head, sat crossed-legged on a rich carpet and 
 gracefully reclined on a large silken cushion 
 over which was thrown a costly Cashmere 
 shawl. 
 
 Behind the Ameer stood the erect form of a 
 faithful attendant, with a long dagger in his 
 belt, who with a bright cotton handkerchief 
 brushed away the flies, while a fair youth, a 
 slave-boy from Kafiristan, occasionally handed 
 his master a cup of sandal sherbet, and an old 
 Abyssinian bond-servant supplied at intervals 
 the calumet of peace. 
 
 Seated on the Ameer's right was Shere Aly, 
 the recently nominated heir to the throne, a sur- 
 viving son of a favorite wife, and who, in after 
 years, played so important a part in Afghan 
 history. Close by stood the portly figure of 
 Shergasi, the Lord Chamberlain, whose coun- 
 tenance betrayed the fact that his good humor 
 and courtly manners were fortified and sustained 
 by libations such as were not consistent with a
 
 4 RUHAINAH. 
 
 true follower of the Prophet. But the Lord 
 Chamberlain had often been heard to say that 
 had sparkling champagne ever existed in the 
 days of the Prophet it would have been made 
 lawful, being so much more grateful to the 
 human soul than scents and women which were 
 the Prophet's foibles. 
 
 A marked contrast to the well-conditioned 
 appearance of the Lord Chamberlain was the 
 gloomy countenance of the Ameer's trusted 
 adviser who occupied the left of the throne and 
 who sat in pious abstraction counting the 
 ninety-nine names of God on his rosary. 
 Afghan rulers love to do religion by deputy. 
 The next best thing to being religious is to 
 support and pamper a religious devotee. So 
 thought the great Ameer. And the orthodoxy 
 and bigotry of the saintly Fazlodeen served as a 
 counterpoise to the erratic counsels of the wine- 
 bibbing Shergasi. 
 
 In the background stood some twenty armed 
 retainers selected from the various tribes and 
 held as hostages for the good behavior of their 
 respective clans. 
 
 The strongly marked Jewish features of the
 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERA T. 5 
 
 Ameer for the Afghans by their own genea- 
 logies are descended from King Saul were 
 evident as he took chief part in the discussions 
 of the durbar. 
 
 It is true the ameers of Cabul have auto- 
 cratic power, but Dost Mohamed had intro- 
 duced a kind of constitutional government, and 
 consequently in the durbar, besides those 
 already mentioned, were several sarddrs or 
 nobles of distinction, whose advice was sought 
 on all great state questions. 
 
 Among these privileged courtiers there was 
 none more honored and trusted than Abdullah, 
 an old white-bearded chieftain, known as the 
 " Rustum of Herat." 
 
 Abdullah was an Afghan noble who in his 
 youth had migrated from Herat to Cabul, and 
 who had been a trusted adherent of the 
 Ameer's cause during the British invasion. 
 
 After the expulsion of the British he had 
 returned to his own province, and had served 
 the national interests of his country during the 
 Persian invasion of Herat. 
 
 " Rustum " is a mythical personage in Ori- 
 ental romance, celebrated for his unbounded
 
 6 RUHAINAH. 
 
 hospitality; and such had been the generous 
 and benevolent character of Abdullah, during 
 his eventful life, that he had earned for himself 
 the honorable distinction of " The Rustum of 
 Herat." 
 
 There had not been any notable event in the 
 life of the Ameer with which this chieftain had 
 not been associated, and rumor had it that this 
 Abdullah had done many a dark deed of blood. 
 
 But "God and the Prophet knew best." 
 Abdullah's vices were all in the uncertain chaos 
 of men's minds, while his virtues were evident 
 to the world. To look at him you would have 
 said Abdullah was a good man, good as 
 Afghans go, which, after all, is not saying much 
 for Abdullah's character. 
 
 His was a tall well-built figure with a soldier- 
 like bearing, a fine open face with arched eye- 
 brows, so marked a feature in Afghan counten- 
 ances. His eyes had a soft and kind expression 
 which seemed to belie his reputation as a des- 
 perate man. His beard was long and perfectly 
 white, and his whole appearance would prove 
 him to have attained the patriarchal age of three 
 score years and ten.
 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERAT. f 
 
 Abdullah was a man of simple habits, and 
 even when he attended the durbar of the 
 Ameer he seldom added any thing to his or- 
 dinary white cotton turban, coat and pijamahs, 
 save an Egyptian cimeter which he had so 
 often wielded in the national cause. The full 
 turban, some twenty yards in length, which 
 encircled his head, was bound round a 
 conical cap of rich Persian gold lace. His 
 wide loose pijamahs of white cotton cloth were 
 covered to the knee by a simple white kurta, 
 such as is worn by an Afghan yeoman. 
 
 When unarmed and pursuing the peaceful 
 occupations of his village life Abdullah carried 
 in his hand a long staff which added to his 
 patriarchal character, but when he attended 
 the councils of kings he buckled on his trusted 
 sword and stepped as with the elasticity of 
 youth, for in Afghanistan the old feel youthful 
 in the service of the state. 
 
 Abdullah entered the durbar and walked 
 with a firm step up the center to the raised dais, 
 on which the Ameer was seated. The whole 
 company rose, as the Ameer advanced to wel- 
 come the old man, whom he embraced with
 
 8 RUHAINAH. 
 
 the greatest cordiality and with the warmest 
 affection. 
 
 " Friend Abdullah ! " said the Ameer, " it is 
 our intention to reward you for your faithful 
 adherence to the interests of our person and 
 our dynasty, by making you a free grant of the 
 village and fort you now occupy." 
 
 Requesting Abdullah to be seated, the Ameer 
 in an authoritative voice ordered his secretary 
 to read aloud the deed of gift which declared 
 that " in consideration of the eminent services 
 rendered to the state, that faithful Moslem and 
 well trusted servant, Abdullah of Herat, shall 
 receive for the use and enjoyment of himself 
 and his heirs forever the village and fort of 
 Abukilla in the province of Jalalabad." 
 
 The document having been read, the Ameer 
 affixed his signet on the top of the manu- 
 script and handed it to the venerable chief- 
 tain. 
 
 As the Ameer thus made over the old his- 
 toric fort of Abukilla to the stranger from 
 Herat, a vindictive smile stole upon the lips of 
 the Sheenwaree chieftains which but too truly 
 indicated the feelings of jealousy with which
 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERA T. 9 
 
 they regarded the settling of strangers in 
 Sheenwaree territory. 
 
 Even the ascetic countenance of old Fazlo- 
 deen relaxed its muscles as he raised his eyes 
 and looking at Abdullah recited in a whisper 
 the well-known couplet : 
 
 " Thou hast piled up trays of various meats, 
 Nor wilt thou with a single platter rest content." 
 ****** 
 
 The domain thus granted by the Ameer of 
 Cabul to Abdullah of Herat was the pretty little 
 village of Abukilla and its old fort. 
 
 Abukilla lay nestling on one of the slopes of 
 the lower mountain ranges which rise from the 
 valley watered by the Cabul River. The village 
 consisted of some seventy dwelling houses sur- 
 rounded by a dilapidated mud wall ; and a 
 small stone fort, said to have been erected by 
 the Emperor Baber, occupied the side of the 
 village exposed to the valley below. The stone 
 watch-tower, which rose higher than the fort, 
 could be seen peeping through the trees at a 
 considerable distance, and the two lofty minarets 
 of the old ruined mosque gave an antiquated 
 and picturesque appearance to the place.
 
 10 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Abukilla, being about seven miles from the 
 great highway from central Asia to India, had 
 escaped the ravages of conquerors ; but having 
 changed proprietors with the expiration of 
 every reigning dynasty, the village, its fort, its 
 watch-tower, and its mosque, had sadly fallen 
 into decay. 
 
 The hospitality of the " Rustum of Herat" 
 had, however, made it a place of resort, and 
 although Abdullah had but recently occupied 
 the place, weary and needy travellers would 
 often stop short of the town of Jalalabad, and 
 turn aside from the public highway, to find a 
 peaceful halting-place and a hospitable welcome 
 in this secluded village. 
 
 Among the Afghans hospitality is the very 
 bond of perfectness. And the open-handed and 
 generous treatment of all who visited the fort 
 had secured for its new chieftain a world-wide 
 reputation which even those who regarded him 
 as an intruder could not gainsay. 
 
 The chief institution of the village was its 
 mosque, which had been erected by the 
 Emperor Baber as a thank-offering for journey- 
 ing mercies, and which still possessed some
 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERA T. 1 1 
 
 traces of its original beauty, and enjoyed a very 
 considerable endowment. 
 
 The mosque combined in itself the three-fold 
 character of a hostel, a divinity school, and a 
 house of prayer. Its lay-patron was the chief 
 of the village, and in order to secure the relig- 
 ious interests of the place Abdullah had forci- 
 bly ejected the former incumbent, and had 
 installed an Afghan scholar and poet of reputa- 
 tion known as " Mullah Ahmad." 
 
 Mullah Ahmad was a many-sided man ; well 
 read in ponderous folios of tradition, and well 
 skilled in theology, logic, and philosophy. But 
 he was chiefly known as a poet. To the 
 chieftain of Abukilla the special recommenda- 
 tion in Mullah Ahmad's character was the fact 
 that he was more genial in manner and more 
 liberal in thought than that bigoted specimen 
 of humanity who usually occupies the position 
 of village priest in Moslem countries. 
 
 There were in connection with the mosque a 
 number of divinity students, chiefly supported 
 by the liberality of Abdullah, and partly from 
 the endowments of the institution. 
 
 Mullah Ahmad was most regular in the observ-
 
 12 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 ance of the five stated periods of liturgical 
 prayer, and so zealous was he in religious mat- 
 ters, and so undisputed was his authority in 
 things spiritual, that he sometimes applied the 
 leathern whip to the backs of those who grew 
 weary in their devotional duties. Ahmad used 
 to say, for he had a sense of humor, that 
 he found this one of the most wholesome 
 injunctions of the Prophet, so much more effect- 
 ual in rousing sluggish souls than even the most 
 fervent sermons. 
 
 The only other institution in this little village 
 was the Hindu's shop. The Afghans never 
 keep shop. In all Afghan villages there are 
 Hindu shop-keepers. Idolater though he be, 
 the Hindu is tolerated by the Moslem Afghan 
 as a being absolutely necessary for his existence. 
 But oftentimes when the Afghan chief has run 
 up a heavy bill at the Hindu's store, he will 
 clear off the bill by clearing off the shop- 
 keeper. 
 
 The Hindu shop-keeper of Abukilla was a 
 tall, thin emaciated specimen of humanity 
 named Nand Ram. 
 
 Any morning as the traveller passed from
 
 THE K USTUM OF HERA T. 1 3 
 
 the fort to the mosque he might see Nand 
 Ram seated at the door of his little shop 
 encased in piles of sugar, dried fruits, salt, flour, 
 rice, and butter, weighing out articles of food, 
 and measuring off calico to the boys and girls, 
 and 'he good wives of the village. 
 
 But although Nand Ram was in Afghan 
 eyes an insignificant idolater only allowed by a 
 merciful Providence to live for the accom- 
 modation of the faithful, he was by no means 
 an unimportant personage. He was a paid 
 spy of the British Government, and the special 
 correspondent of the London Times. 
 
 Nand Ram was a well paid political spy, and 
 every week he transmitted his despatches sewn 
 up in the sole of the shoe of a native runner. 
 He had formerly resided in Cabul, but he had 
 been ejected from that city on suspicion, and 
 he had now settled in this obscure place so as 
 to get his political information and Cabul news 
 through the female members of Abdullah's 
 family. 
 
 Close to the Hindu's shop was the entrance 
 to the fort in which resided the famous chief- 
 tain. A wooden door opened upon a large
 
 14 RUHAINAH. 
 
 quadrangle, where everything betokened a 
 hospitable welcome. Along either side of the 
 open space were picketed some twenty horses, 
 being a detachment of cavalry kept up by the 
 chief of Abukilla in accordance with the 
 Ameer's feudal system for the service of the 
 state. 
 
 Facing the entrance, and within the fort, 
 were several large rooms used as guest- 
 chambers, fitted up with cots which were every 
 evening supplied with quilts and pillows for 
 the weary traveller. 
 
 This htifrah, or guest-chamber, is an institu- 
 tion common to every Afghan village. Here 
 every stranger can claim an evening meal and 
 a night's sojourn. 
 
 Above the guest-house was a bdlakhdna, or 
 upper-chamber, in which the chief and his 
 special guests usually sat. The wooden shutters 
 of this apartment opening the whole length of 
 the room gave the occupants the benefit of the 
 sun on a winter's day, and of the cool breezes 
 from the river below on a sultry night. 
 
 Beneath the guest-houses was a large subter- 
 ranean chamber, known as a tahkhdnah, where
 
 THE RUSTUM OF HERA T. 15 
 
 the chief and his family found a cool retreat 
 from the intense heat of a summer's day. 
 
 The entrance to the harem, or prohibited 
 quarter, was in the corner of the outer court, 
 but so screened off as to prevent the eye of the 
 curious from penetrating its hidden mysteries. 
 As the owners of Abukilla had generally kept 
 up the orthodox number of four wives, with a 
 numerous company of female slaves, the zenana 
 apartments of the fort were unusually exten- 
 sive. Each wife having a separate establish- 
 ment of servants and slaves. 
 
 The harem of an Afghan chief is generally 
 held sacred from the prying curiosity of the 
 outer-world, but there were circumstances con- 
 nected with the female portion of Abdullah's 
 household which had become the subject of 
 village gossip. Abdullah himself was regarded 
 as an intruder, but there were circumstances 
 connected with the interior economy of his 
 household which had become a grave public 
 scandal, even among people whose lines of 
 domestic morality are drawn as wide as those of 
 the Afghan race.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 RUHAINAH. 
 
 new chieftain of Abukilla was over 
 1 much married. Not that the " Rustum of 
 Herat " had been a gay Lothario, but, like 
 Jacob of old, he had been the victim of circum- 
 stances. 
 
 When a young man, his father had 
 betrothed him to the daughter of a Cabul priest, 
 by whom he had several children, the only sur- 
 viving child being his son Alak. Then, a few 
 years afterward, he made it a point of honor to 
 espouse the widow of a Sadozie chief whom he 
 had slain in battle. By her he had no family. 
 
 And when resident in Herat, in order to con- 
 ciliate the people of the city, he had taken to 
 wife a lady of that province, by whom he had 
 a daughter named Shaidy. 
 
 And now, in his old age, he had been com- 
 pelled to complete the legal number, for no
 
 RU HA IN AH. 17 
 
 sooner had he settled down in his new domain, 
 than the Sheenwaree tribe had forced him to 
 form an alliance with the family of their own 
 chief. 
 
 Abdullah being an old man, with a well- 
 stocked harem, would most gladly have escaped 
 the responsibility of a fourth wife. But 
 among Oriental races a marriage is considered 
 one of the easiest ways of settling political 
 difficulties. For the Prophet himself said 
 " Matrimonial alliances between tribes increase 
 friendship more than anything else." 
 
 The bonds-maids of Abdullah's household 
 were also numerous. And even since his 
 arrival in his new home, the Ameer had pre- 
 sented him with a fair damsel taken captive in 
 a recent war with the idolaters of Kafiristan. 
 Among his numerous slave-girls the most 
 active little busy-body was this Gulandamah, a 
 girl about twenty years of age, who made it 
 her mission in life to relate the tittle-tattle of 
 the harem. If any of the wives were invited 
 to weddings Gulandamah accompanied them, 
 and so carefully did she attend to her business, 
 that by all the lovers of local gossip she was
 
 1 8 RV 'HA IN 'AH. 
 
 regarded as a kind of court circular of the 
 daily events of the harem. 
 
 From morning till night the continuous din 
 and clatter of Abdullah's harem were such as 
 to turn the strongest brain. It is true that each 
 wife had her separate establishment, separate 
 rooms and servants, and daily allowances of corn 
 allotted at each harvest, and that Nand Ram, 
 the village shop-keeper, kept a separate account 
 with each for her supplies of groceries and con- 
 fections. But, notwithstanding all this, there 
 were ceaseless bickerings regarding the most 
 petty matters, with which we will not trouble 
 our reader. 
 
 In an Afghan household the mother of the 
 chief takes the first place among the female 
 members of the family. But Abdullah's mother 
 had long been dead, and theCabul wife claimed 
 precedence, not so much on account of her 
 seniority, but as the mother of the chief's only 
 son. And the imperious spirit of Alak took 
 very good care that his mother received due 
 honor. 
 
 The Sadozie wife never really forgave the 
 murder of her husband, and spent her time in
 
 RUHAIXAH. 19 
 
 turning her spinning wheel in supreme indif- 
 ference to the affairs of life. 
 
 The Heratee wife found some consolation in 
 the sweet confiding love of her little daughter 
 Shaidy. 
 
 But the real termagant of the household was 
 the young Sheenwaree wife. From the very 
 first she had regarded her marriage with the 
 aged chieftain as merely a political expedient, 
 and the whole energies of her little brain were 
 spent in concocting mischief. 
 
 " What has a girl to do with the counsels of 
 a nation ? " is an Oriental proverb. But the 
 beautiful Taj at Agra erected by the Emperor 
 Jehangeer, and some of the most remarkable 
 events in the lives of Oriental potentates, all 
 prove that, in the East as much as in the West, 
 women, especially when they are pretty, have 
 exerted enormous power. Even at the very 
 time of which we write the mother of Shere Aly 
 was the leading influence in all state matters 
 at the Cabul court. 
 
 With Abdullah's young Sheenwaree wife mis- 
 chief was her mission. And as her little fingers 
 embroidered in gold, or spun at the spinning
 
 20 RUHAINAH. 
 
 wheel, or mixed dainty dishes for special guests, 
 each wife taking it in turn by the week to 
 supply the guest-house, her little brain was 
 actively engaged with the one thought of 
 obtaining paramount authority in the village 
 and fort of Abukilla, and, if possible, in the 
 counsels of the Ameer of Cabul himself. 
 
 Although six months of her married life had 
 not passed, there was not a chieftain or prince 
 in the whole country who had not heard of 
 Nurejan, the young wife of the aged " Rustum 
 of Herat." 
 
 In all her intrigues Nurejan found a useful 
 agent in the. thin bony banker and shop-keeper 
 Nand Ram. It is within the limits of Afghan 
 propriety for a village lady to go outside her 
 harem when veiled with a bourka, such as is 
 common to Central Asia, and oftentimes a 
 veiled figure was seen at the shop of Nand Ram 
 purchasing cloth, sugar, candy and spice, and 
 talking treason and love. All the village knew 
 it was none other than Abdullah's young wife. 
 Poor Abdullah ! You have purchased the friend- 
 ship of the treacherous Sheenwarees at an 
 'enormous cost !
 
 RUHAINAH. 21 
 
 There was, however, one being in the harem 
 who occupied an unique position. It was the 
 eldest daughter of Abdullah, Ruhainah, who 
 was known as " The Maid of Herat." 
 
 Born of a Cashmere slave, so it was said, she 
 was only three months old when her mother 
 died. She had, however, been tenderly cared 
 for byAlak's mother and had been fortunate in 
 gaining the affection of that wild son of the 
 desert. 
 
 " Ruhainah ! " Alak would say, " nothing but 
 the inscrutable decrees of God could have made 
 you and me brother and sister! " 
 
 "Yes, Alak!" the old father would say, 
 " but even in the dark defile of the Khyber 
 the wild flower clings to the rough and rugged 
 rock." 
 
 It is impossible to conceive two characters 
 more strangely contrasted than these two chil- 
 dren. 
 
 Alak was the personification of an Afghan. 
 A young man, some twenty-three years of age, 
 of middle stature, with strong and active limbs, 
 a quick but unsettled eye, and a strong impul- 
 sive nature. His dark eyes and black beard
 
 22 RUHAINAH. 
 
 seemed destined to effect a marked and striking 
 contrast with the brown eyes and the rich 
 deep auburn tresses of his fair sister. 
 
 Not even the fervid fancy of the Arabian 
 Prophet had ever created a more graceful houri 
 than this fair girl, who gave grace and elegance, 
 and even peace, to the harem of Abdullah 
 amid all its discordant elements. Even the 
 Sheenwaree wife grew tame under the gentle 
 and loving influence of Ruhainah's dreamy 
 eyes. 
 
 Ruhainah was a child of nature. For hours 
 she would sit gazing into the starry heavens 
 and indulge in strange, dreamy thoughts of 
 God. And as she stood, in the early morn, 
 on the top of her dwelling, she would look 
 down on the valley below, and watch the rapid 
 flowing waters of the "Cabul River with a deep 
 yearning for some bliss supreme of which " time 
 mocks the dream it never can destroy." 
 
 "You're a strange little creature," Alak used 
 to say. " Why ever the Almighty sent you 
 into this world of sin I cannot tell." 
 
 Ruhainah was only seventeen years of age, 
 but she had for the last few years of her short
 
 RU HA IN AH. 23 
 
 life exerted an influence over her aged father's 
 life of which he was fully conscious. 
 
 Abdullah in his youth had been a desperate 
 man, violent, fiery, and revengeful, but in the 
 hands of his daughter Ruhainah he was as gen- 
 tle as a lamb. Indeed, it was only in the 
 apartment of Ruhainah that Abdullah found 
 rest from the turmoils of life. 
 
 For an Afghan girl Ruhainah was well edu- 
 cated. She could read and write Persian and 
 Pushto, and had studied carefully the poems 
 of Hafiz of Shiraz, and the Gulistan of Shaikh 
 Sadi. She was well read in Afghan poetry, and 
 could recite with readiness the odes of Rahman. 
 
 Among strict Moslems the cultivation of 
 music is unlawful, for it is said that the Prophet 
 put his fingers in his ears when he heard the 
 strains of a pipe. 
 
 " But that was not such music as Ruhai- 
 nah's," old Abdullah would say. And the fond 
 old father loved to recline and listen to the 
 sweet strains of his daughter's melody as she 
 would accompany herself on the rebdb. 
 
 How the old man's face would lighten up 
 as he gazed on the pensive profile of his
 
 24 RUHAINAH. 
 
 daughter's face as she would sing so sweetly 
 the words of the Arab poetess! 
 
 " O rare virtue and beautiful natural trait, 
 Which never will change by the change of estate ! 
 When clad in his armor and prepared for the fray, 
 The army rejoiceth and winneth the day ! " 
 
 " Father! why have you not married me to 
 some old Cabul prince, or to some ugly Sheen- 
 waree chief?" said Ruhainah, as she struck 
 her little fingers playfully across the rebab and 
 looked inquiringly into his face. 
 
 " My child, why do you ask me ? " 
 
 " I never thought of it before," she said ; 
 " but this morning your Sheenwaree wife said 
 her tribe were determined to claim me in mar- 
 riage for their chief." 
 
 The old man's face became serious, and tak- 
 ing Ruhainah's hand tenderly, he said, very 
 solemnly : 
 
 " Ruhainah, do you really wish to be mar- 
 
 
 
 ried ? " 
 
 "No, why should I ?" 
 
 " Ruhainah ! I once had a strange dream re- 
 garding you."
 
 RUHAINAH. 25 
 
 " Oh, do tell it, father ; I do so like dreams." 
 " It was many years ago in fact, it was not 
 long after your mother's death," said Abdullah, 
 with some hesitancy, " that I was sleeping at 
 noonday under a shady rock in the Gandnamak 
 Pass, and you, then a little babe, were resting 
 in my arms, that Jesus, the Spirit of God 
 upon whom be peace appeared to me and 
 said, 'Abdullah! that child is mine; let her be 
 as my Virgin Mother.' I thought he took you 
 away, but when I awoke you were playing 
 with my beard. I have often wondered what 
 could be the meaning of that dream ! Can it 
 be that you are destined to live a virgin life ? 
 For, many a time since then have I sought to 
 betroth you, but the fate of the Almighty God 
 seems against it. When a child, you were 
 betrothed to the youngest son of the Governor 
 of Herat, but he was assassinated that very 
 night. I had promised you to a Candahar 
 chief, and he was slain in battle. And it was 
 only yesterday that I heard the Ameer had 
 decided to demand you for his son Gho- 
 lam Hyder, the very day the young prince 
 died. It has been well said in the sacred
 
 26 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Koran, 'All things have been created after a 
 fixed decree,' and your destiny, my rose, seems 
 to be but to cheer and comfort an aged father 
 at the close of his long and checkered life." 
 
 " And what more happy destiny than mine, 
 father dear?" she said, as she playfully thrust 
 her fingers into his long white beard and with 
 her left hand struck a cheerful chord on the 
 rebab. " What happier lot than mine ? " 
 
 " Sing another song, Ruhainah." 
 
 " Would you like the song of the seven wise 
 women of Persia ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well then you shall have it. And remember, 
 you dear old saint, I inflict it on you because 
 you have so cruelly brought me a fourth mother 
 to annoy my poor little life." 
 
 And then taking her rebab she looked up 
 into her father's face and sung : 
 
 " Be that man's life immersed in gloom 
 Who weds more wives than one, 
 With one his cheeks retain their bloom, 
 His voice a cheerful tone. 
 These speak his honest heart at rest, 
 And he and she are always blest :
 
 RUHAINAH. 27 
 
 But when with tu<o he seeks for joy, 
 Together they his soul annoy, 
 With four no sunbeam of delight 
 Can make his day of misery bright." 
 
 " You are quite right, you naughty Ruhainah ! 
 But, my little rose, those seven wise women of 
 Persia knew nothing of Afghan politics. Even 
 the Prophet (upon whom be peace) married 
 eleven wives, but they were all marriages of 
 political expediency : so were mine." 
 
 " What ! did you not marry even my mother 
 for love?" 
 
 " Peace, silence, my child ! your mother is 
 dead." 
 
 " Oh father ! do tell me something of my 
 mother, you never speak of her. And yet I 
 believe you loved her. You once said she was 
 fair and beautiful." 
 
 Abdullah was silent, as he always was when 
 Ruhainah mentioned her mother. 
 
 Ruhainah's influence in the harem was su- 
 preme, for her patient lovely nature often made 
 her a messenger of peace. But yet when she 
 wished to assert herself she could. It was only 
 when Ruhainah's feelings were hurt or when
 
 28 RUHAINAH. 
 
 her orders were disobeyed that Abdullah troub- 
 led himself to interfere in household matters. 
 
 It is needless to add that Nurejan, the 
 young Sheenwaree wife, hated Ruhainah with 
 a bitter hatred. Such as only an Afghan 
 woman can feel. 
 
 Meanwhile, the tittle-tattle of every house- 
 hold and the gossip of every guest-house was 
 the fact that in the harem of an Afghan chief 
 there was a fair and beautiful young maiden of 
 seventeen both unmarried and unbetrothed. 
 
 Such a scandal, it was said, had never been 
 known in the annals of the Afghan people. 
 
 It was this fact in the history of this young 
 girl's life that made her a subject of general 
 discussion in almost every Afghan family, and 
 had earned for her the appellation of " The 
 Maid of Herat." .
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MOSQUE. 
 
 to prayers ! come to prayers ! pray- 
 ers are better than sleep ! " 
 
 Thus in the early morn, as the first streak of 
 light appeared in the heavens, the silvery voice 
 of the village priest gave forth the call to 
 prayer from the lofty minaret. 
 
 The mosque was soon the scene of anima- 
 tion. Devout villagers hastily risen from their 
 cots came straggling in, and performing their 
 ablutions, prepared for prayer. 
 
 The young students, still heavy with slug- 
 gish slumber, yawned upon their beds, and 
 were only made conscious of their sacred 
 duties by the stern and imperious call of their 
 spiritual teacher. 
 
 "Yusuf! Shahbaz ! MohamedGul! what are 
 all you young fellows doing yawning on your 
 beds when the voice of the Muazzan has given
 
 30 RUHAINAH. 
 
 the call to prayer ? Shake off the embrace of 
 Satan that beguiles your souls ! Awake to the 
 call of prayer, my sons ! " cried Mullah Ahmad, 
 the priest, as he visited the cells surrounding 
 the courtyard of the mosque in which slum- 
 bered the students of divinity. 
 
 Slowly and reluctantly did the young men 
 rise from their cots, and running to the well 
 hastily purify themselves for prayer. 
 
 " It seems strange," said Yusuf, the priest's 
 son, " that our Trophet established prayer at so 
 early an hour." 
 
 " Silence ! " said Shahbaz, " know ye not that 
 the five periods of prayer are a merciful dis- 
 pensation from the Almighty in answer to our 
 Prophet's supplication. In the time of Moses 
 the people prayed fifty times a day, and the 
 disciples of Jesus prayed all night." 
 
 In the dim twilight of the early rnorn the 
 stately figure of Abdullah was seen approach- 
 ing the mosque, and the young students has- 
 tened their ablutions to receive the benignant 
 blessing of their patron. 
 
 " The peace and mercy of God be upon 
 you ! " said Abdullah, as his servant unloosed
 
 THE MOSQUE. 31 
 
 his sandals at the portal, and he crossed the 
 threshold of the mosque, leaning upon his staff. 
 
 There was not a more devout Moslem than 
 the " Rustum of Herat," for by a strict observ- 
 ance of the rites of the Moslem faith he sought 
 to atone for the sins of his youth in the piety 
 of old age. 
 
 Abdullah soon took his place in the tur- 
 baned congregation as they ranged themselves 
 in five rows for the angels delight in odd 
 numbers. The priest in front facing the sacred 
 temple at distant Mecca led the people in 
 prayer, as they prostrated themselves in humil- 
 ity and self-abasement on the cold earth. 
 
 All are equal in God's sight ; and Abdullah 
 the trusted counsellor of the Ameer bowed his 
 head beside that of Akbar the household slave. 
 
 Prayers having been said, Abdullah remained 
 on his knees in fervent supplication. Then 
 taking a Koran handed to him by his slave, he 
 read his morning portion from the sacred 
 book : 
 
 " Whosoever hath repented and hath done 
 that which is right, he verily it is who turneth 
 to God with a true conversion."
 
 32 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Having read thus far, the old man, with 
 deep contrition of soul, raised the Koran to his 
 lips and exclaimed, " O merciful God ! I have 
 repented. I did the deed in self-defence, but I 
 have repented, and I have tried to do with her 
 yes, I have tried to do ' that which is right ! ' 
 
 Mullah Ahmad, the priest, hearing the earn- 
 est ejaculation of his chief, turned to him and 
 said, " Do you require an explanation of the 
 sacred text ? " 
 
 " No," replied Abdullah, " the true meaning 
 of that verse has long since been engraven on 
 my heart ! Tell me ; is there any limit to the 
 mercy of God?" 
 
 " None," said the teacher, " for hath not the 
 Prophet himself said ' They truly sin who 
 despair of the mercy of their Lord.' ' 
 
 By this time the interior of the mosque had 
 completely changed its character. From an 
 assembly of devout worshippers it had become 
 a village conclave. For the guests in the guest- 
 house who had risen too late for early prayer 
 strolled into the mosque to pay their respects 
 to the learned priest. 
 
 Seated on a small mat near one of the pil-
 
 THE MOSQUE. 33 
 
 lars of the mosque Mullah Ahmad received his 
 visitors, who likewise seated themselves in a 
 circle on the floor. 
 
 It was on these occasions that the village 
 priest exercised his office of civil judge, or 
 kazee, and decided all questions affecting the 
 social life of his people, according to the stern 
 principles of Moslem law. Questions of mar- 
 riage, and of divorce; family disputes; divisions 
 of land ; the payment of debts, both just and 
 unjust, were among the thousand and one ques- 
 tions submitted to the good man for adjudica- 
 tion. 
 
 " Zar, Zan, Zameen" " gold, women, and 
 land," Mullah Ahmad used to say, "are the 
 three causes of all your troubles." 
 
 And so they were. Although no one was more 
 hen-pecked by his one wife for the good man 
 had never dared to take a second or was more 
 amenable to the potent influences of gold 
 than the learned and pious priest. But as he 
 accepted bribes from both parties and returned 
 the money to the losing side no great injus- 
 tice was done, while the coffers of the judge 
 were much enriched.
 
 34 RUHAINAH. 
 
 The assembled group was a representative 
 one of Afghan life. 
 
 There was Faiyaz, the mystic from Persia, 
 whose lean and ill-favored form told of stern 
 devotion and severe penance. There was Fateh 
 Khan, an old pensioner of the Indian army, 
 who cut the throats of the infidel English 
 at Ghuznee, but fought bravely for the very 
 same race on the plains of Gujerat. There was 
 Afzal, a petty chieftain of a neighboring village, 
 whose portly presence contrasted well with the 
 lean man from Persia. Meerza was there, the 
 village minstrel, who set the mystic verses of 
 Mullah Ahmad to the unhallowed strains of the 
 rebab. While in the centre of the group was 
 the prominent figure of " Hasan the Khyberee," 
 one of the most desperate brigands of his day. 
 
 Abdullah having returned his Koran to a 
 young student, who reverently wrapped it in 
 a handkerchief of rich Bokhara silk, joined the 
 party. 
 
 There were no legal disputes to be settled 
 this morning, and the conversation of the little 
 group was a general admixture of politics and 
 religion. The designs of Russia the British
 
 THE MOSQUE. 35 
 
 occupation of Cabul the intrigues of English 
 officers the coming of the Mahdee with black 
 standards from the regions of Khorassan the 
 signs of the last days the decay of faith 
 among men and the final victory of the 
 armies of Islam, were a few of the various 
 topics of conversation which occupied some 
 two hours in the mosque at Abukilla. 
 
 " Now listen to me ! " said Hasan the Khy- 
 beree. " My policy is death to every infidel, 
 be he English or Russian. ' Fight the infidels 
 wherever ye shall find them,' are the words 
 of the blessed Koran, and I believe that every 
 hand stained with the blood of a foreigner shall 
 appear with silver whiteness in the last day. 
 Think of the glorious deeds of the faithful as 
 they massacred to a man the proud conqueror. 
 I can almost see the look of horror on the face 
 of a pork-eating colonel as I plunged this dag- 
 ger into his heart." And as he spoke he drew 
 his dagger from his belt in fiendish delight. 
 " Ah ! ah ! Abdullah, the renowned and valiant 
 chief of Abukilla ! you have vastly changed, 
 my friend, since I was your lieutenant in the 
 Jagdalak pass ! You had a tough struggle
 
 36 RUHAINAH. 
 
 with that young captain, and if I mistake not 
 you still bear the mark of his pistol on your 
 arm." 
 
 The young students of divinity watched the 
 fanatical excitement of the brigand with intense 
 delight, but it was but too evident that Abdul- 
 lah listened to his words with manifest dis- 
 pleasure. 
 
 " Silence, Hasan ! " said Abdullah, " this is not 
 the time for thee to preach a jehad. There 
 will come a day when the Caliph of Islam shall 
 subdue the world. But these are those days 
 of unbelief which are but the signs of the last 
 age and of the approaching resurrection." 
 
 All eyes were suddenly turned to the side of 
 the pillar where stood a tall thin man with a 
 red beard and small blue eyes, and who spoke 
 in idiomatic Persian, with a drawling into- 
 nation : 
 
 " It was only the other day that I was present 
 at the durbar of our great Ameer, when he was 
 discussing these questions, and his highness 
 said that a united Afghanistan ought to be 
 able to take its place among the nations of 
 the earth. We Afghans are not a feeble race
 
 THE MOSQUE. 37 
 
 like the Hindu, nor an expiring race like the 
 Indian tribes of America, but we are a power- 
 ful and increasing people. Think of the glori- 
 ous deeds of Mahmud, of Ghuznee and of 
 Ahmad Shah ! and still more recently of our 
 own august master the Ameer ! The Afghans 
 are a nation of men, and why should they then 
 despair of a great and glorious future? " 
 
 " Who is that man ? " inquired the priest of 
 Abdullah. 
 
 " He is a guest from Cabul." 
 
 " He has spoken the truth. He is a man of 
 wisdom," said the priest. 
 
 The sudden appearance of a mounted war- 
 rior at the gate-way of the mosque interrupted 
 the conversation. 
 
 " I bring a letter from the chief of Lalpura," 
 said the horseman, as he handed it to Akbar 
 the slave, who took it to his master. 
 
 Abdullah read the letter in silence but with 
 suppressed excitement. 
 
 "Tell the horseman to ride to the guest- 
 house, where he will get provender for his horse 
 and a morning meal for himself." 
 
 Then, taking his staff, Abdullah left the
 
 3 RUHAINAH. 
 
 mosque and slowly and pensively wended his 
 way to the fort. 
 
 " The chief has received some important 
 intelligence," said Hasan the Khyberee. 
 
 "A robbery! " said one. 
 
 " An abduction ! " said another. 
 
 " A murder ! " said another. 
 
 " Zar, Zan, Zameen, gold, women, and 
 land," said Mullah Ahmad, " but whatever it is, 
 the truth must soon be out."
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 SWEET LITTLE SHAIDY. 
 
 " T T THY do you look so sad, father? " said 
 VV Ruhainah, as Abdullah entered the 
 harem with an anxious countenance. " I wish 
 we had never left Herat, for here we have 
 nothing but trouble." 
 
 " Trouble ! My child, my troubles are 
 indeed great, for as one of our own poets has 
 said, ' the Afghans are malevolent, ruthless, 
 and contentious'." 
 
 "Why all this sadness, father dear?" she 
 said as she placed her hands on his, and looked 
 up into his handsome face with undisguised 
 anxiety. " Tell me your troubles. You did so 
 in Herat. But in this dark hole there is not a 
 ray of light even in your dear old face. Ever 
 since your young wife came your manner has 
 completely changed. My dear old father, can- 
 not you tell me all? "
 
 40 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " All, my child ! the all of my troubles 
 would overwhelm a little brain like yours. 
 You would not understand me if I told you." 
 
 "Try me, father. You have no idea how 
 clever I am." And kneeling at his feet she 
 coaxingly placed her head upon the old man's 
 lap and with a pleading loving look raised 
 her dreamy pensive eyes. 
 
 " Now, try me." 
 
 " Well, in the first place, the English and the 
 Russians are giving the Ameer a great deal of 
 trouble." 
 
 " That is nothing. Let England and Russia 
 fight it out." 
 
 " Ruhainah, my life, you don't understand 
 politics." 
 
 " Perhaps not. But tell me your next trou- 
 ble." 
 
 " Well, then, the tribes are all jealous of my 
 influence with the Ameer." 
 
 " Oh ! that is of no consequence. I thought 
 only women were jealous." 
 
 "Yes, my little rose, it is of consequence. 
 For the hatred of an Afghan burns like fire. 
 They may take my life."
 
 S WEE T LITTLE SHAID Y. 4 1 
 
 " Father ! " said Ruhainah much startled, 
 "you must trust in God." 
 
 " I do trust in Him. He is Al-hdfiz, the Pro- 
 tector. I do trust in Him," said Abdullah in a 
 subdued and thoughtful tone. 
 
 " Then what is your next difficulty, you 
 dear old saint?" 
 
 " My next," he said, placing his hand lov- 
 ingly on her head and smoothing her long tres- 
 ses. " My next, my greatest trouble is regard- 
 ing you" 
 
 (" It is all that young wife's doings," thought 
 Ruhainah.) 
 
 "What trouble can 7 be to any one? You 
 know, father, I have always obeyed your 
 wishes." 
 
 " Ruhainah ! " he said in a solemn and meas- 
 ured tone, " Ruhainah ! the Khan of Lalpura, 
 the leading chief of the Mohmund tribe, de- 
 mands you in marriage." 
 
 " Well, and the Khan of Lalpura shall not 
 have me. How many wives has he? " 
 
 "Three, I believe." 
 
 " And how many slave girls? " 
 
 " I do not know. Perhaps ten."
 
 42 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " And how many children ? " 
 
 " None." 
 
 "Father! I will kill myself first." 
 
 And loosing herself from his embrace Ru- 
 hainah stood erect before him and stamped her 
 little foot with anger. 
 
 " Listen, father ! the day that Ruhainah the 
 daughter of Abdullah marries the chief of Lal- 
 pura, with his three wives, and ten female slaves, 
 that very day she plunges this dagger into her 
 heart. Remember ! " 
 
 And as Ruhainah spoke she seized her 
 father's dagger from his belt and brandished 
 it before him, while the astonished chieftain 
 watched with alarm the excitement of his 
 daughter. 
 
 Gently taking the dagger from her hand and 
 replacing it in his belt, the old man said : 
 
 " Now listen, Ruhainah." 
 
 " I will listen," she said, as she took a little 
 three legged stool and seated herself close to 
 him. 
 
 " I am listening," she added, as she placed her 
 hand upon his knee, and looked lovingly in her 
 father's face with tearful eyes.
 
 S WEE T LITTLE SHAID Y. 43 
 
 " Among the Afghans it has ever been the 
 custom for the closest bonds of friendship to be 
 cemented by marriage. The Prophet (upon 
 whom be peace) set us the example, and my 
 marriages have always been contracted for this 
 purpose. Ruhainah, my little pet ! I took my 
 young Sheenwaree wife, not because an old 
 man's heart needs another love, but to 
 strengthen my position with that powerful clan. 
 And now, the leading chief of the Mohmund 
 tribe swears eternal friendship if I will but 
 give you to him in marriage." 
 
 " Father ! one question : Did you marry my 
 mother for love or politics? " 
 
 "Your mother is dead. She died a long 
 time ago, Ruhainah." 
 
 Ruhainah felt her question had been evaded. 
 But she allowed her father to proceed. 
 
 " My daughter ! I must tell you that this 
 chief is supported in his demands by the whole 
 country. For the people all say it is a disgrace 
 to an Afghan family for a maiden of your age 
 to remain unbetrothed. Still, I am told, that if 
 you refuse, the chief will take your sister Shaidy. 
 The chief's sole object, as I have told you,
 
 44 RUHAINAH. 
 
 being to form a close alliance with our family 
 for tribal reasons." 
 
 " Poor Shaidy ! No ! Shaidy shall not be sac- 
 rificed for me ! " Ruhainah exclaimed. 
 
 " We cannot resist the decrees of fate," said 
 her father. " The chief expects an answer, and 
 if all that Nand Ram says be true, the Khan of 
 Lalpura will press his demands by satanic 
 methods." 
 
 Abdullah buried his head in his hands and 
 remained silent for some time. Then, spring- 
 ing from his 'seat he said with great decision, 
 " Ruhainah ! Shaidy must marry. The safety of 
 our lives, the peace of our home, our position of 
 influence among the people, all depend upon 
 the step. Shaidy must marry the chief of Lal- 
 pura." 
 
 Ruhainah was lost in dreamland as her 
 father took his staff and hurried into the outer 
 court. 
 
 When she had recovered herself, she would 
 fain have followed her father, but no female 
 member of the chieftain's family was allowed to 
 set foot in the village guest-house. 
 
 Ruhainah ran at once to her sister, whom she
 
 SWEE T LITTLE SHAID Y. 45 
 
 found turning her spinning wheel in her mother's 
 court-yard. 
 
 Gently approaching her sister, and placing her 
 fair hand upon Shaidy's raven tresses she kissed 
 her sister's forehead with tenderness and said, 
 " My poor little Shaidy ! " 
 
 "Why am I poor?" 
 
 " Why, my dear little dove, because you're 
 going to be married ' " 
 
 The sudden announcement did not astonish 
 Shaidy in the least, for every Afghan girl is 
 brought up with the expectation of getting 
 married. And Shaidy's education had not been 
 neglected in this respect by a careful mother. 
 She knew well enough that when the time came 
 she would have nothing whatever to say to 
 the selection of her husband. "Our fathers 
 and mothers know so much better than stupid 
 children about so serious a question as matri- 
 mony," Shaidy had been taught to say. 
 
 Among Afghan girls love and matrimony are 
 two distinct departments of social life. And 
 although Shaidy's heart was already held cap- 
 tive by the only son of the village priest, she 
 never for one single moment expected to marry
 
 4<$ RUHAINAH. 
 
 the youth she loved. To an Afghan girl mar- 
 riage is not necessarily love. 
 
 " Married ! to whom am I to be married ? " 
 
 "O Shaidy," (taking her little sister's hand), 
 "you are going to be married to a perfect mon- 
 ster. To a great big ugly chief with three 
 wives, and hundreds of slave-girls, and all 
 simply because the family of the chief of 
 Lalpura must be united to that of the Rustum 
 of Herat." 
 
 " Well, if it is my fate I cannot resist it," 
 said Shaidy, as she resumed her spinning. 
 
 " Gulandamah ! have you ever heard of the 
 Khan of Lalpura ? " inquired Shaidy of the 
 slave-girl who had just entered the court-yard. 
 
 Now, Gulandamah had already received 
 sundry favors of the Mohmund chief, and she 
 readily answered : 
 
 " Why, the whole world knows him. He is 
 a fine handsome young man, a good rider, a 
 keen sportsman, a most hospitable host, and 
 a brave warrior. It was his hand which slew 
 the renowned brigand Secundar. Happy is the 
 girl who marries Lateef Khan, the brave and 
 hospitable chief of the Mohmunds. It is true,
 
 S WEE T LITTLE SHAID Y. 47 
 
 he had four wives, and the religion of your 
 Prophet does not allow a fifth, but when he 
 heard of the charms of Shaidy, the beautiful 
 daughter of the Rustum of Herat her long 
 black tresses, her silken ringlets, her bright 
 eyes, her ruby lips, her pearly teeth and her 
 cypress form why, he divorced the ugliest of 
 his four wives, and now asks you to cheer his 
 bereaved heart ! The chief is childless, and it is 
 quite certain that from the very day you enter 
 the house you will reign supreme. O Shaidy ! 
 you are a lucky girl. The luckiest in the 
 country ! " 
 
 And Gulandamah danced before her young 
 mistress with delight. 
 
 " But how did he ever hear of me ? " 
 
 " Why, through me, of course ! " 
 
 For it is through such gad-abouts as Gulan- 
 damah that Afghan gentlemen become 
 acquainted with the secrets of the harems of 
 noble families. And at such business Gulan- 
 damah was an adept. It was in consideration 
 of valuable presents to this slave-girl that the 
 Khan of Lalpura had become fully informed of 
 the harem-life of the new chief of Abukilla.
 
 48 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Gulandamah had told him of the mysterious 
 maidenhood of Ruhainah, and she had also 
 told him of the special charms of sweet little 
 Shaidy, which in Gulandamah's eyes were far 
 more attractive than those of the fair sister. 
 
 "There is not a man I like better in the 
 whole country," said Gulandamah coquettishly. 
 " Look here," she continued, pointing to a 
 silver bracelet, " he gave me this, when I last 
 visited his family with Alak's mother. Isn't it 
 beautiful?" 
 
 " Gulandamah ! " said Ruhainah, " it is very 
 immodest, and very wrong of a young girl like 
 you to accept presents from Afghan nobles." 
 
 " Ah ! my sweet mistress, you forget that I 
 am but a slave." 
 
 Ruhainah and Shaidy discussed for some 
 time the proposed marriage, and the interests 
 of the expectant bridegroom were well repre- 
 sented by Gulandamah in consideration of the 
 silver bracelet. In the meantime, Abdullah had 
 dismissed the messenger with a letter convey- 
 ing his consent to the betrothal, and marriage. 
 
 " O Shaidy ! you are indeed born under a 
 lucky star," said Gulandamah. " The chief will
 
 ^ WEE T LITTLE SffAlD Y. 49 
 
 bedeck you with jewels, you will live on the 
 choicest sweet-meats, you will rule those three 
 wives with a rod of iron, you will have dozens 
 of slaves to scold from morn till eve, you will 
 recline on a couch of sweet perfumes, you will 
 listen to the sweet strains of minstrels, and you 
 will watch the lovely movements of Nautch 
 girls ! O Shaidy ! you are indeed lucky !" 
 
 " But what will poor Yusuf say ? " interposed 
 Ruhainah.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF. 
 
 " DOOR Yusuf," was the beardless youth who 
 
 * studied divinity, poetry, and law, at his 
 father's feet in the village mosque. 
 
 He first saw little Shaidy sleeping on the 
 roof of her dwelling as he stood on the lofty 
 minaret of the mosque giving the " call to 
 prayer," and from that moment his love for 
 the girl had been one of those romantic hope- 
 less passions which so often are the burden of 
 an Eastern song. 
 
 Yusuf, who inherited his father's poetic fancy, 
 wrote whole folios of couplets expressive of 
 his undying and unchanging passion for the 
 chieftain's daughter. 
 
 Her " moon-like face " the " subtle dimple 
 in her damask cheek " his " burning breast 
 kindled with passion's flame " the " enticing 
 tavern of his mistress' love " the " nectar of
 
 THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF. 51 
 
 her ruby lips" love's " inebriation" the 
 " curled circles of her raven locks," were all the 
 subjects of poetic effusions which the love-sick 
 boy assured his father were but Sufyistic ex- 
 pressions for love-divine, and which the fond 
 parent regarded as evidences of the deep mystic 
 piety which inspired his young son's soul. 
 
 The impassable barrier which Afghan pro- 
 priety has raised between the outer world and 
 a chieftain's harem would have separated for- 
 ever these two young lovers, had they not 
 enlisted the sympathies of a faithful friend in 
 the indefatigable Gulandamah. 
 
 It was Gulandamah who conveyed sweet 
 messages of love from the old ruined mosque 
 to the well guarded precincts of the harem, 
 and who skilfully arranged that Shaidy should 
 loiter on the house-top at the very hour that 
 the priest's son ascended the minaret to give 
 the call to prayer. 
 
 Shaidy, like her sister, had learned to read the 
 Afghan language, and often did Yusuf slip 
 into the hand of the faithful slave girl impas- 
 sioned verses in praise of the " cypress form," 
 the " dark narcissus-like eye-lashes," the " slender
 
 52 RUHAINAH. 
 
 waist," and the " ruby lips," of the sweet little 
 Shaidy, who had so enslaved his heart. 
 
 The sad news of Shaidy's betrothal to the Khan 
 of Lalpura soon reached the ears of the priest's 
 son, for it was the talk of the village. And 
 most anxiously did the poor lad await the hour 
 when Gulandamah would come with her empty 
 pitcher to draw water from the well. 
 
 As the evening closed in, Gulandamah slowly 
 emerged from the fort, clad in her blue 
 striped pijamahs, and red kurta reaching to 
 her knees, and with a dark green turban en- 
 circling her head on which was poised the 
 empty pitcher* 
 
 As Gulandamah approached the well, which 
 was in the enclosure of the mosque, Yusuf 
 drew near. Secretly did the trusty little slave 
 slip into his hand a piece of pink paper. It 
 was Shaidy's love letter. Not one word of her 
 betrothal. It had but a couplet from an 
 Afghan poet : 
 
 " In this world thou art my life, my soul, 
 Naught else beside. To thee my life I swear." 
 
 Slipping the paper into his lesson book he
 
 THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF. 53 
 
 read the lines by the dim light of his lamp as 
 Gulandamah filled her pitcher. 
 
 " Can I speak to her ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Gulandamah. 
 
 " When ? " 
 
 " When her father visits the mosque for night 
 prayer." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " Take this," she said, throwing at his feet a 
 dirty white bourka or cotton veil, such as is worn 
 by Moslem women. " Enter the fort and knock 
 at the door of the harem. I will let you in. 
 Speak not a word. But if you are discovered 
 say you are Gulandamah's lover. I will not 
 betray you. Trust me." 
 
 " Brave Gulandamah ! " exclaimed Yusuf, as 
 he put into her hand the only silver coin he 
 possessed. 
 
 " Yusuf!" shouted the priest, who had just 
 entered the mosque, " Yusuf, my son ! Come 
 here ! It is not wise to waste precious 
 moments in trifling conversation with slave- 
 girls. For hath not the Prophet said that ' the 
 first sin which the children of Israel committed 
 was on account of a woman ' ? "
 
 54 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Gulandamah leisurely filled her pitcher and 
 returned to the fort. 
 
 " If I were a chieftain's daughter I would 
 marry Yusuf and live on love," she said to her- 
 self as she tripped along the pathway. 
 
 " Will he come ? " asked Shaidy, as Gulanda- 
 mah entered the harem and placed her pitcher 
 on the ground. 
 
 " Yes, and you must do exactly as I tell you 
 or you will be found out and Yusuf will be 
 killed. It is very stupid of you, my dear lady, 
 to be so fond of this beardless youth. A brave 
 warrior of prowess and renown is more worthy 
 of the love of Shaidy the beautiful daughter of 
 the Rustum of Herat." 
 
 " But how will he enter the fort ? " 
 
 " Now listen. At the time of night prayer, 
 when the chief is in the mosque, Yusuf will 
 enter disguised as a woman. You and Ruh- 
 ainah must be seated on the roof. If he is 
 discovered, you must say he is in love with 
 me. A poor slave girl has no character to 
 lose." 
 
 The priest seldom commenced the public 
 prayers until his chief arrived. But after a
 
 THE LOVE- SICK YUSUF. 55 
 
 few minutes delay the stately form of the vener- 
 able chief emerged from the fort and crossed 
 the threshold of the mosque. He was soon 
 standing in the row of worshippers absorbed in 
 earnest devotion. 
 
 Every eye was fixed, as the Moslem law 
 demands, in profound humility and self-abase- 
 ment on the ground, as the musical voice of 
 the priest gave forth the fomula : 
 
 " Praise be to God, the Lord of all the worlds, 
 The Compassionate, the Merciful ! 
 King on the day of Judgment ; 
 Thee only do we worship ! 
 To Thee do we cry for help ! 
 Guide Thou us in the right way!" 
 
 Yusuf, taking advantage of the occasion so 
 cleverly suggested by Gulandamah, covered 
 himself with the bourka,and boldly entered the 
 fort. Knocking at the door of the entrance to 
 the harem, which was opened by the slave-girl, 
 he was taken up the dark stair-case which led 
 to the top of Ruhainah's dwelling. Here Yusuf 
 found the two sisters seated on a Persian 
 carpet, and reclining on richly embroidered
 
 56 RUHAINAH. 
 
 cushions. Ruhainah and Gulandamah with- 
 drew and left the young lovers alone. 
 
 " It is all true ! " said Yusuf, as he folded Shaidy 
 in his arms. " It is all true ! " 
 
 " What is true ? " inquired Shaidy, as she 
 rested her head on her young lover's shoul- 
 der. 
 
 " O Shaidy ! only three nights ago I had a 
 dream. I dreamed my sweet little dove which I 
 feed and cherish in the mosque, was perched 
 on the bow of the mulberry tree which over- 
 shadows the well, and that a great eagle came 
 and carried my little dove away. O Shaidy ! 
 my life ! my rose \you are the dove, and the chief 
 of Lalpura is the eagle." 
 
 Shaidy raised her large black eyes and fixed 
 them on Yusuf, and as she looked at him the 
 bright starlight gave lustre to big tears which 
 but too truly told the tale of a true but hope- 
 less love. 
 
 " Shaidy ! " said Yusuf, as he pressed her 
 closely to him and wiped away her tears. 
 ' Shaidy ! you must never marry that man. 
 He does not love you. He has four wives 
 already. And his mother is a proud Daurani
 
 THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF. 57 
 
 of royal birth who will give you no peace. O 
 Shaidy! I love you with love divine. The 
 poets have often sung of love. But there 
 never has been love like mine. Only yesterday 
 I was reading that a learned author says there 
 are two kinds of love. Animal love and spirit- 
 ual love. Spiritual love, he says, arises from 
 harmony of souls. O Shaidy ! such is my love. 
 Ours is like the love of Salaman and Absal, 
 who, as they loved each other, lived in that 
 beautiful island described by the poet Jami." 
 
 " Why, Yusuf, you talk like a philosopher. 
 You will soon be as clever as your father. I 
 know this much of love, Yusuf, that my whole 
 heart is yours. I dream of you at night. I 
 think of you as I turn my spinning-wheel. 
 And as day after day I see you standing on the 
 minaret and hear your voice giving the call to 
 prayer, I long for eagles' wings. I wear as a 
 charm against all evil your own dear name 
 written exactly one hundred times on a piece of 
 paper." 
 
 " Here it is," she said, as she held up to 
 the starlight a bit of blue silk suspended from 
 her neck, in which was sewn the precious talis-
 
 5 8 RUHAINAH. 
 
 man. " Never did Zulekha love her Yusuf as I 
 love mine." 
 
 " But you will soon part with your love 
 when you are wedded to a great chieftain," 
 pleaded Yusuf. " And then the poor devotee 
 who now worships at the shrine of your sweet 
 self will wander in the desert of blighted hopes 
 and sit lonely in the prison-house of despair." 
 
 " How stupidly you talk ! If I niarry the 
 chief, and marry him I must, I shall never 
 love him. No Afghan girl ever marries the 
 man she loves." 
 
 "And yet you will be his, his wife, his 
 slave," pleaded Yusuf. " O Shaidy, I am get- 
 ting wild and mad. The day you marry him I 
 will shoot either him, or you, or myself. No 
 one who loves as I love could listen to your 
 marriage music, and see you borne away to the 
 home of another, and keep his reason." 
 
 " Don't talk so loud," said Gulandamah. 
 " The chief is below." 
 
 " For heaven's sake, jump over the wall ! " 
 exclaimed Ruhainah, running to her sister 
 and whispering to Yusuf. " Father is coming 
 up the stairs ! "
 
 THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF. 59 
 
 Gulandamah, who stood ready for the emer- 
 gency, flung a rope over the wall, and Yusuf 
 immediately let himself down to the lane 
 below. 
 
 " What are you talking about ? " said Abdul- 
 lah, as he reached the top of the staircase some- 
 what out of breath. 
 
 " We were discussing Shaidy's marriage," 
 replied Ruhainah. 
 
 " That must not be discussed, my children. 
 In all such things you must follow the precepts 
 of your elders. Girls do not understand such 
 matters. They have always been arranged by 
 your fathers, from the days of the Prophets ; 
 even from the day when Abraham the friend 
 of God (upon whom be peace), chose a wife 
 for his son Isaac." 
 
 Abdullah was soon followed by Shaidy's 
 mother, a lady of Herat, with strongly marked 
 Persian features, still bearing traces of former 
 beauty. 
 
 " Shaidy ! " said her mother, "your father and 
 I have come to tell you of the auspicious 
 arrangements we have made for your settle- 
 ment in life. In a few weeks you will be the
 
 60 RUHAINAH. 
 
 wife of the leading Mohmund chieftain. He 
 is related to the Ameer. He is a man of 
 mighty deeds. He has slain with his own hand 
 some fifty of his enemies. He is a swift horse- 
 man. He is expert in the public games. His 
 hospitality is profuse. His guests are counted 
 by hundreds. You are a fortunate girl. 
 The alliance which you are about to form is 
 one worthy of a princess of royal lineage. You 
 are indeed fortunate." 
 
 " Have you ever seen him, mother ? " 
 " No, my child, but Gulandamah has." 
 " Could not Shaidy see him just once before 
 she marries him ? " interposed Ruhainah. 
 
 " That is impossible. No family of reputa- 
 tion could allow such a thing." 
 
 " You are quite right, Begum," said Abdullah ; 
 " the truth is, that ever since those English came 
 into these parts, our Afghan girls, having heard 
 of the shameless way in which foreign women 
 go abroad unveiled, are all claiming more 
 liberty. Such innovations are but the signs of 
 the last times and of the decay of faith among 
 men." 
 
 " By Allah ! " whispered Gulandamah to
 
 THE LOVE SICK YUSUF. 61 
 
 Ruhainah, " that Sheenwaree wife of his goes 
 about from place to place with the barefacedness 
 of a common dancing girl." 
 
 Abdullah and his Heratee wife retired, and 
 descended into the court-yard below, when 
 poor little Shaidy threw herself on her cot in 
 an agony of grief. 
 
 " O my God ! what shall I do ? Yusuf will 
 kill himself, and I shall be held captive in the 
 embraces of .the man I hate." 
 
 When Yusuf, somewhat startled by his sud- 
 den descent into the road (for the rope broke), 
 reached his father's mosque, he lighted his lamp, 
 and like many a lover in a more civilized country 
 devoted himself to the muses. After many vain 
 attempts to produce something expressive of his 
 feelings, he seized a reed pen and wrote upon 
 the fly-leaf of a well worn copy of Euclid : 
 
 " Narcissus-like I bend with grief, 
 Which haunts the hours of night and day ; 
 A wound is mine without relief, 
 A life unchaste by faintest ray." 
 
 " Yusuf ! Yusuf ! " cried his father, " what are 
 you doing?"
 
 62 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " I am trying to solve the fifth problem, but 
 it's very difficult," replied the poor love-sick 
 boy. 
 
 The next day Yusuf copied his lines on to 
 a fine piece of Cashmere paper, and inscribed 
 upon them 
 
 " The Tribute of a Broken Heart ! " 
 
 and awaited the arrival of Gulandamah at the 
 well. 
 
 " Give this to Shaidy," he said. " I wrote 
 it last night." 
 
 As Gulandamah entered the gateway of the 
 fort, she was stopped by Akbar the slave. 
 
 " How dare you stop me ? " exclaimed the 
 enraged damsel. 
 
 " Don't be angry, my little maid," said Ak- 
 bar. " I have important business." 
 
 " What is it ? " 
 
 " There was a friend here yesterday who was 
 making very minute inquiries after your mis- 
 tress, the Fair Maid of Herat, and he said if 
 the master does not give the young lady in 
 marriage, a fire will soon be kindled in the 
 peaceful home of the Rustum of Herat which
 
 THE LOVE-SICK YUSUF. 63 
 
 not all of the waters of the Indus shall 
 quench." 
 
 " Well, and what business is this of mine?" 
 
 " None, my good little maid, but you might 
 just give a word of warning to your fair mis- 
 tress." 
 
 " I shall do nothing of the kind, friend Ak- 
 bar. I am but a slave, and a slave is only 
 half a woman. I do not believe in dangers 
 which I do not see. But who, I should like 
 to know, dares to take the name of my fair 
 mistress upon his foul lips ? " 
 
 " He is a noted brigand, who says he once 
 met Ruhainah's mother. His name is Hasan 
 Hasan, the Khyberee, as he is called."
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 
 
 THEY were a strange group those five 
 men, as they seated themselves around 
 a blazing fire on the bare ground in that dark 
 gloomy cave in the Khyber. They were incor- 
 porated members of the secret society known 
 as the " Guild of the Red Hand" 
 
 There was Alam, the youngest son of a lead- 
 ing Khyber chief. Young in years, but old in 
 crime. He was known as the " Silvery Snake," 
 being singularly skilled in entering noiselessly 
 and unobserved the houses of English officers 
 in the military cantonment at Peshawur, and 
 from which he often returned with enormous 
 booty. 
 
 There was Baihram, a ferret-eyed man 
 of middle age, and short in stature, who had 
 earned for himself the sobriquet of the " Tiger," 
 from his ability to pounce upon a defenceless
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 65 
 
 traveller and rob the unfortunate man of every- 
 thing he possessed this useful qualification 
 making him a distinguished member of the 
 little band. 
 
 There was Khawas, a tall, bony man, whose 
 jaunting gait had secured for him the name 
 of -the "Camel," and whose numerous scars 
 told of many a desperate encounter. 
 
 There was " Solomon the Sage," so called 
 because his long face and ascetic exterior en- 
 abled him to defy detection when he assumed 
 the role of a religious mendicant. 
 
 The fifth was " Hasan the Khyberee," whom 
 we first met in the mosque at Abukilla. Hasan 
 was a truly desperate character. Consecrated 
 to crime in his cradle, he had been trained as 
 soon as he could walk in deeds of infamy and 
 vice. 
 
 Hasan would often entertain his companions 
 with stories of the skilful way in which his 
 old father trained him to creep stealthily along 
 the ground, or climb over a wall, or waylay 
 unsuspecting strangers, and how his apt per- 
 formances would be greeted with shouts of 
 applause from admiring spectators, as his
 
 66 RUHAINAH. 
 
 proud parent exclaimed, " Ghal shah ! Be a 
 thief ! " 
 
 The son, now a middle-aged man, of stal- 
 wart frame, with well-knit limbs and devel- 
 oped muscles, had become in every respect 
 worthy of his disreputable parent. 
 
 "Only five of us to attack the whole mili- 
 tary garrison of Peshawur," said Hasan, as 
 he took long pulls at his pipe. " Where is 
 Yunas? " 
 
 "Yunas?" replied Alam. " Yunas is saying 
 his prayers in the Peshawur jail. He was 
 caught with a metal spoon in his pocket, and, 
 by the Prophet ! it told more tales than even 
 his broad Khyber dialect." 
 
 "Why do you fellows touch such things?" 
 said Hasan, with anger. " Our holy guild is 
 not formed for such trifles. Arab chargers, 
 steel swords, pistols, and muskets, or costly 
 uniforms, these find a ready sale at Cabul, 
 and thus help on the cause of Islam. But 
 where is Fateh?" 
 
 " Fateh ? " replied Alam. " Fateh, poor fel- 
 low, is still suffering from his wounds, nursed 
 with care in an English hospital."
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 67 
 
 "Strange creatures these English! One 
 Englishman tried to kill Fateh, and now 
 another Englishman saves Patch's life. One 
 infidel puts a bullet into Patch's body, and 
 another infidel takes the bullet out of Patch's 
 body. Truly, these infidels are strange beings." 
 
 "And Alak, the noble son of the saintly 
 'Rustum of Herat,' where is that young man?" 
 inquired Hasan, with a sneer. 
 
 " Held captive with the tresses of his fair 
 sister," said Khawas, with a fiendish laugh. 
 
 "His sister!" exclaimed Hasan, "his 
 sister ! By the Prophet, I could make a thorny 
 pillow for the venerable head of the renowned 
 Rustum of Herat, if it suited my purpose." 
 
 And Hasan stirred the fire with a demoniacal 
 grin. 
 
 "Is the fair maiden still unbetrothed ?" 
 inquired Alam. 
 
 " She is still unbetrothed," said Hasan, with 
 some emphasis. "And why that old fool does 
 not give her to some young fellow I cannot 
 tell." 
 
 " Solomon, my wise friend ! wake up, you 
 were almost asleep. Solomon, my sage coun-
 
 68 RUHAINAH. 
 
 seller ! what say you to Hasan the Khyberee 
 adding one other houri to his earthly paradise 
 by taking to himself the Fair Maid of Herat ? " 
 
 Solomon, taking out his snuff-box, put a 
 quantity of the unlawful stimulant on the back 
 of his hand, and snuffed it vigorously with the 
 desired result. 
 
 "God be praised!" exclaimed the sage, as 
 he nearly dislocated his neck with sneezing. 
 
 " May God have mercy on you ! " piously 
 ejaculated the other four. 
 
 Solomon's eyes expanded, and looking at 
 Hasan, he said, " You were speaking of that 
 young houri in Abdullah's harem. Be careful, 
 my friend, for I am told that the young prince, 
 Shere Aly, has set his heart on her. But night 
 is coming on. We have no time for such idle 
 talk." 
 
 Hasan motioned to Solomon to produce the 
 book. 
 
 The whole five then arranged themselves in 
 a circle, as Solomon uncovered a Koran, and 
 placed it reverently on his knee. 
 
 "Now, brothers, swear!" said Hasan, as he 
 raised the sacred book and kissed it. " Swear ! "
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 69 
 
 " Death to the infidels. Lubaikah! " 
 
 And they each raised the right, hand and 
 exhibited a red henna spot on the centre of the 
 palm. (The spot on Hasan's hand was that of 
 human blood.) 
 
 " Lubaikah ! " repeated Hasan, and the whole 
 company stood up. " God is most great ! " 
 
 " Ameen ! " answered the other four. 
 
 " Allah Hafiz ! God is our protector!" said 
 Hasan. 
 
 "Ameen ! " replied the rest. 
 
 Thus had Hasan, who believed in neither 
 God nor demon, made even the sacred offices 
 of religion subservient to his own diabolical 
 purposes. And his four trusty followers pre- 
 pared themselves for a desperate deed of blood 
 with all the religious enthusiasm of a band of 
 martyrs. 
 
 It was in order to obtain a fresh supply of 
 muskets for the Cabul market that Hasan had 
 summoned the members of his desperate 
 brotherhood to undertake a raid upon a cavalry 
 picket at Peshawur. Being within a few miles 
 of the Khyber Pass, the British cantonment at 
 Peshawur is defended at night by pickets of
 
 70 RUHAINAH. 
 
 cavalry placed at short distances round the road 
 which encircles the garrison. 
 
 One of the most important pickets was that 
 stationed on the Khyber road, and which con- 
 sisted of a small party of native horsemen, 
 commanded by a non-commissioned officer. 
 This native picket being within rifle-shot of a 
 strong guard of British infantry, no attempt 
 had ever been made upon it, but the very 
 desperate character of the raid was a special 
 attraction to a man of Hasan's tempera- 
 ment. 
 
 " These English think themselves very wide 
 awake, but we will teach them that an Afghan 
 is quite equal to them," said Hasan. 
 
 "Now our plan of attack is as follows," he 
 continued: 
 
 "Outside the cavalry lines, facing the 
 Khyber, is a picket of five mounted men. Each 
 will possess a sword, a pistol, and a musket. 
 Early in the morning, just before the dawn of 
 day, when sentries sleep, each of our brave little 
 band must slay his man, seize his weapons, and 
 ride off with his horse. There must be no noise. 
 Let each seize his man as he sleeps on his cot,
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 7 I 
 
 cut his throat, quickly unbuckle his pistol and 
 sword ; the musket will be in the saddle." 
 
 " But one sentry will be awake," said Solo- 
 mon, the sage. 
 
 "Never mind," said Hasan, "the sentry 
 shall be my bird. I may take him on the 
 wing, but most likely he will be asleep also." 
 
 Each man then took from his wallet a piece 
 of oat-cake which, with a drink of water at 
 the nearest spring, was their evening meal. 
 Thus fortified, they started on their errand of 
 blood. 
 
 It is a journey of fully eleven miles to the 
 cantonment of Peshawur, but Afghan hill- 
 men are quick on foot and can walk long dis- 
 tances. 
 
 The little party trudged along almost in 
 silence. The only weapon they carried was a 
 small dagger in the belt of each. They were 
 clad in a simple blue kurta, and had divested 
 themselves of their wallets and their shoes. 
 
 As they approached the guard, Hasan gave 
 orders for his party to lay themselves down on 
 the side of a ravine opposite the English cem- 
 etery.
 
 72 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " WIw cum dere ? " shouted the watchman at 
 the cemetery gate, in broken English. 
 
 " That fellow must be silenced," said Hasan 
 to Solomon, the sage. 
 
 " I know him," said Solomon, "he is a man 
 of piety; " and going up to the watchman, Solo- 
 mon, concealing his dagger, said : " I am a poor 
 student from Cabul. I am afraid of yonder 
 picket. Give me protection, I pray thee, until 
 sunrise." 
 
 " Rest in peace," replied the watchman, as he 
 threw himself on his cot to complete his morn- 
 ing slumbers. 
 
 Solomon returned to his party, who were 
 still stretched on the ground. 
 
 " Hasan," said Alam, in alow whisper, " if I 
 am shot, take care those infidels don't get my 
 body, for they will burn it and so stop my en- 
 trance into paradise." 
 
 " Silence, you fool," said Hasan, " this is not 
 the time for such subjects. Cheer up, my boy, 
 the game will soon be over." 
 
 Creeping along the ground, Hasan brought 
 his party in sight of the cavalry picket of four 
 troopers who were sleeping on their cots, while
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 73 
 
 the fifth stood sentry with drawn sword. The 
 armed sentry seemed to march toward the brig- 
 ands, and young Alam's heart began to fail. 
 But as the dismounted horseman turned to 
 retrace his steps, Hasan made a " click " with 
 his lips (the preconcerted signal), and the five 
 Khyberee brigands sprang upon their victims. 
 Hasan plunged his dagger into the sentry, 
 while the other four cut the throats of the 
 sleeping soldiers. 
 
 The dying groans, suppressed though they 
 were by the violent effort of the murderers, 
 warned Hasan that not a moment must be lost. 
 He and his four companions were soon 
 mounted on the horses of the murdered troopers, 
 and galloping in the direction of the Khyber 
 Pass. Save a passing shot from the cemetery 
 watchman no alarm was given, and the five 
 desperate members of the Guild of the Red 
 Hand found themselves in Hasan's village 
 with rich booty. 
 
 The subaltern of the week, having enjoyed 
 himself until morning at a mess ball, did not
 
 74 RUHAINAH. 
 
 visit his rounds until daylight, an irregularity 
 for which Lieutenant Boys might, under stricter 
 discipline, have been court-martialed. 
 
 Advancing within the usual distance, the 
 young officer waited for the challenge. But all 
 was as silent as a tomb. 
 
 " You scoundrels ! Are you all asleep ? " 
 
 " Jemidar ! " addressing the native officer, 
 " are you asleep? " Then a volley of oaths not 
 put in the most idiomatic Hindustanee, for 
 Lieutenant Boys had not passed his examin- 
 ation in the native languages. 
 
 "You dogs ! You owls ! You sons of owls ! 
 
 You niggers ! You ! Lieutenant Boys's 
 
 vocabulary failing him, he went closer, and to 
 his horror beheld the whole five native troopers 
 stretched dead on the ground. 
 
 The British guard, which was close by, was 
 called out. 
 
 Tommy Atkins rubbed his eyes and said, 
 "Just like them niggers. They be all dead 
 drunk with opium." 
 
 " It strikes me," said another, " they've been 
 fighting like Kilkenny cats, and have each cut 
 the throats of t'other."
 
 THE GUILD OF THE RED HAND. 75 
 
 Lieutenant Boys, the subaltern of the week, 
 mounted an English guard over the corpses of 
 the murdered troopers, and rode off to the 
 brigade office to report the affair.
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 BERTRAM BERNARD. 
 
 ""QEARER, 'peg lao' bring a peg! " cried 
 f_) Garson, the brigade major, as he gal- 
 loped into the compound of the 3Oth cavalry 
 mess. 
 
 " Rather early for a brandy and soda, old fel- 
 low ! I thought you were a temperance man ? " 
 said Major Bertram Bernard, as he sat in the 
 verandah of his mess enjoying his choti hazirioi 
 tea and toast. 
 
 "So it is," replied Garson, as he dismounted 
 from his charger and unloosed his sword. 
 " But I have just seen a sight to sicken the 
 strongest stomach. The whole cavalry picket 
 of the 4Oth Lancers, on the Khyber road, have 
 had their throats cut, their horses stolen, and 
 nothing in the world left of them but their 
 dead bodies. Killed like sheep, sir ! by those 
 rascals of Khyberees. Smart fellows ! By
 
 BER TRA M BERNARD. 7 ^ 
 
 Jove ! I should think this will open the eyes of 
 government to the state of our frontier." 
 
 " I expect it is all that Hasan's doings," 
 said Bernard, " for, from what my men tell me, 
 he is the pluckiest fellow that ever breathed. 
 But what was the sentry doing that he didn't 
 get help from the European guard, close by ? " 
 
 " Heaven only knows ! " said Garson ; " but 
 there will certainly be an expedition." 
 
 " Not a bit of it, my dear sir, John Lawrence 
 never was a fighting man, and since the mutiny 
 they say he is as nervous as a child." 
 
 "It is certainly becoming serious," said Gar- 
 son, " for two European officers have been as- 
 sassinated within the last six months, and now 
 this awful business." 
 
 " I wish government would employ me to 
 unearth that fellow Hasan. You know he 
 once came to see me, the rascal ! I gave him 
 my word of honor that he should not be seized, 
 and one of my native officers brought him in," 
 said Major Bernard. 
 
 There was not a finer officer in the whole 
 Indian army than Major Bertram Bernard, who 
 commanded the 3Oth Bengal cavalry. He was
 
 78 RUHAINAH. 
 
 a man some thirty-eight years of age, of a tall 
 manly presence. He grew a beard when beards 
 were uncommon in the army. He had a quick 
 penetrating eye, and his mouth, which was small 
 and well formed, indicated much firmness of 
 character. 
 
 His military service of twenty years had cov- 
 ered an eventful life. He had fought bravely 
 in the first and second Sikh Wars, and his ser- 
 vices in the mutiny, at the defence of Luck- 
 now, were officially noted to have been " beyond 
 all praise." He was a man of mark, and all his 
 friends and his enemies, or rather his rivals, 
 for he never made an enemy, predicted for 
 Bertram Bernard a distinguished future. 
 
 "Take my word for it," said old Colonel 
 Mangles of the Engineers, " that fellow Ber- 
 nard will be commander-in-chief some day." 
 
 Bernard's linguistic powers were of a high 
 order. He had taken honors in Persian and 
 Arabic, and he was now engaged in the compi- 
 lation of a dictionary of the language of the 
 Afghans. He was in fact "an all round man." 
 
 It often happens that officers in the atmy 
 who have literary tastes are not particularly
 
 BERTRAM BERNARD. 79 
 
 good soldiers, but it was admitted on all sides 
 that there was not a smarter cavalry officer in 
 the service than Major Bernard. 
 
 For years Major Bertram Bernard had been 
 regarded as quite a ladies' man. But of late he 
 appeared to have settled down as a confirmed 
 woman hater. 
 
 This strange transformation in the gallant 
 officer's character had been the subject of 
 much interesting inquiry among the fair sex, 
 but no satisfactory solution of the question 
 could be obtained. If Bernard's condition of 
 mind was perplexing to his lady friends, it was 
 still more perplexing to himself. 
 
 " My dear fellow " (he would say sometimes 
 to his friend Garson), " what people call love is 
 all vanity and vexation of spirit. From what I 
 see of married life in this country, it is just this, 
 our English girls put forth their whole ener- 
 gies and employ every artifice to get a husband, 
 and when the poor mortal is married and done 
 for, he is simply looked upon as an individual 
 designed by a beneficent Creator to supply the 
 wife with a comfortable home and all the 
 necessaries of existence. The wife spends her
 
 8o RUHAINAH. 
 
 days either in England or on the hills, while 
 the poor bread-winner grills on the plains 
 to earn his pay and get his pension. My 
 ideal wife is a companion. A sweet con- 
 fiding creature who finds no happiness but in 
 the society of her husband, who would 
 prefer death to separation. I know I can 
 never meet with my ideal. Ideals are never 
 realized." 
 
 "A sort of combination of idol and slave" 
 (Garson would say). " A cultivated angel, in 
 fact. A sort of Lalla Rookh, educated in the 
 west end of London, and yet retaining all the 
 simplicity of a village lass. A beautiful ideal, 
 but not found in real life, my dear sir." 
 
 The truth is, that Bernard had all his life 
 been the victim of the caprice of women. He 
 had often thought himself in love. He had 
 even contemplated matrimony. He had even 
 allowed his imagination to picture a happy 
 home and numerous olive branches. 
 
 But Bernard had never really loved. Roman- 
 tic attachments, platonic friendships, and in- 
 teresting flirtations, but not real love as he un- 
 derstood it.
 
 BER TRA M BERN A RD. 8 1 
 
 And so it came to pass that this fine soldier 
 in the very prime of life, and in the very zenith 
 of his military career, had deliberately settled 
 down in bachelor quarters, determined to live 
 out his days in single blessedness. 
 
 His small bungalow was a compact little 
 house of two rooms, with a verandah shading 
 three sides of the building. His bed-room was 
 scantily supplied with furniture. A cot, two 
 chairs, and a couple of small tables were all it 
 contained, while the bareness of the white- 
 washed walls was relieved by a New Year's 
 text, evidently painted by a loving hand, and 
 which read : 
 
 " Faint, yet pursuing." 
 
 His sitting-room at once introduced you to 
 the sanctum of the student and the office of 
 the soldier. There were two roughly-made 
 book-shelves filled with volumes of Oriental 
 authors, and written in strange characters, 
 various works bearing on the history of the 
 East, and sundry editions of current literature. 
 Scattered here and there were Bengal army 
 lists, army regulations, military account-books, 
 and regimental returns.
 
 82 RUHAINAH. 
 
 The walls of the room were covered with 
 pictures of the most varied description win- 
 ners of the Derby, the storming of Delhi, 
 favorite hounds, Sir Robert Peel, Arabic prov- 
 erbs while numerous guns, pistols, and dag- 
 gers of Oriental design, artistically arranged, 
 gave a military air to the room which its well- 
 filled book-shelves seemed almost to belie. 
 
 On the mantel-piece were portraits of his 
 numerous friends. In the centre a large cameo 
 of a young lady clad in a religious habit, over 
 which had been neatly engraved on its metal 
 frame, "Who went about doing good." 
 
 Bindah, his old and faithful attendant, sat in 
 the verandah close to his master's door ; and no 
 wife in Christendom could sew a button, or darn 
 a stocking, or rub out a stain as Bindah could. 
 Bindah took care of his master's purse, and, to 
 some extent, regulated his master's charities, 
 for every Sunday morning at gun-fire did faith- 
 ful- old Bindah place his master's full-dress 
 uniform on one of the two chairs which fur- 
 nished the bed-room, with the Book of Common 
 Prayer, and a rupee for the Sunday collection. 
 
 But, although Major Bernard made up his
 
 BERTRAM BERNARD. 83 
 
 mind to be proof against marriage, and even 
 affected the character of a regular woman-hater, 
 the whole female community of the military 
 station seemed to form a conspiracy against him. 
 He had more invitations to croquet, luncheons, 
 and dinners than any officer in the station. 
 
 Poor dear fellow ! He must have had some 
 dreadful disappointment, and it seemed such a 
 pity to let him fret away in that miserable 
 little bungalow ! 
 
 But Bertram Bernard did not fret. He felt 
 himself far happier than many a less lonely 
 man ; than Lieutenant Boys, for example, who 
 was struggling to support a wife and four chil- 
 dren on a subaltern's pay. 
 
 No man understood the Afghan character 
 better than Major Bernard, and his well-known 
 hospitality had given him a reputation through- 
 out the whole of Central Asia. Afghans came 
 to visit him from all parts ; and on one occa- 
 sion, as we have already remarked, he had en- 
 tertained the renowned brigand Hasan the 
 Khyberee, so thoroughly was the word and 
 honor of this cavalry officer trusted even by 
 half-civilized races.
 
 84 KUHAINAH. 
 
 Bernard was not a religious man in the usual 
 acceptance of the term, and yet there were few 
 men who thought more deeply on religion 
 than he. 
 
 " I wish," he would often say, " I could take 
 my religion more in the spirit of a little child. 
 With all the problems of life before me, and 
 the vast field of research now open to us, it is 
 impossible for a man constituted as I am, not 
 to have serious doubts and difficulties. I have 
 to -hammer out a creed for myself, and have 
 not one ready made like some people." 
 
 And yet Major Bertram Bernard was a 
 regular church-goer, for the chaplain's sermons 
 were short, and he admired the structure and 
 the spirit of the liturgy. 
 
 Those who knew Major Bernard best had 
 observed a marked change in his religious 
 feelings since his recent visit to England. 
 
 " I take life more seriously than I used to 
 do," he often said, as he looked at the cameo 
 portrait over the mantel-piece.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 
 
 " A MY, you must include Major Bernard in 
 \ your list," said Mr. Hesketh to his wife 
 as she sat at her table writing invitations for 
 her next dinner party. 
 
 "It is not the least use, for he always 
 declines." 
 
 " I will drop him a line as well," said Hesketh, 
 "if you will enclose it in yours, for I am anxious 
 to see him ! " 
 
 Mr. Hesketh, the chief civil officer at 
 Peshawur, wrote as follows : 
 
 " DEAR BERNARD. Mrs. Hesketh is inviting 
 you to join our party on Monday evening. 
 Do come if you can, for I want to have a 
 chat about that picket business ; and as I am. 
 going out in the district I shall not be back 
 until Monday evening. 
 
 "Yours Sincerely, 
 
 "HENRY HESKETH."
 
 86 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Mrs. Hesketh's note was not the ordinary 
 invitation, for she seldom sent formal letters to 
 her special favorites. It ran thus : 
 
 " I almost despair of getting you to our din- 
 ner party on Monday, my dear Major Bernard, 
 but the general is coming and my husband 
 wants to talk state secrets. Do give us the 
 pleasure of your company at half past seven 
 o' clock, and forsake that horrid Pushto 
 dictionary for once to enjoy the society of 
 your fellow creatures, and to spend a pleasant 
 evening ! 
 
 " Sincerely Yours, 
 
 "AMY HESKETH. 
 
 " P. S. Come early and you can have your 
 chat before the general comes. I hate 
 politics ! " 
 
 " That woman again ! " exclaimed Bernard, as 
 he read the letter. " I suppose I can't get out 
 of it this time, or I shall offend Hesketh." 
 
 The Commissioner of Peshawur was Sir 
 Herbert Edwardes, a man of great reputation 
 both as a soldier and a statesman, but Sir 
 Herbert being on furlough, Mr. Hesketh, who 
 had a brother in the' India office, was sent to
 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 87 
 
 officiate. Hesketh was a most incompetent 
 man for the post, for he understood less of 
 frontier politics than even the Secretary of State 
 for India. Nor could he speak a single word 
 of the Afghan language. 
 
 It was Hesketh's absolute ignorance of 
 Afghan affairs that made him so anxious to 
 see Bernard, whose intimate acquaintance with 
 the Afghans and their language made him a 
 great authority on all Central Asian questions. 
 
 Fully alive to her husband's deficiencies, 
 Amy Hesketh was determined to make up for 
 them by attracting to herself the most able 
 and useful men, and thus bring her husband in 
 contact with those who could give him the 
 very best information and the soundest advice. 
 
 It was Mrs. Hesketh's sole ambition to 
 figure, some day or other, in the court circular 
 as " Lady Hesketh," and she was determined 
 by some means to secure for her husband a 
 " K. C. B.", during his brief period of office 
 at this important military outpost. 
 
 Amy Hesketh was a tall graceful woman, 
 thirty years of age, of the highest intellectual 
 attainments, and thoroughly accomplished.
 
 88 RUHAINAH. 
 
 She could play, draw, paint and etch. Nature 
 had endowed her with a rich voice, and she 
 was a well trained and cultivated singer. From 
 her childhood she had been a good rider, and 
 there was not a more spirited follower of the 
 " Peshawur Vale hounds" than the wife of the 
 officiating Commissioner of Peshawur. 
 
 But Amy Hesketh's special forte was flirta- 
 tion. It was said she was a " born flirt." We 
 should rather say she was an accomplished flirt. 
 With her it was a studied science. 
 
 Amy Hesketh flirted for several reasons. 
 First, she really liked the sensation of flirting, 
 that indescribable " something" which makes 
 love-making pleasant. Then, it flattered her 
 own vanity to see men put forth the most 
 strenuous exertions and waste the most valuable 
 time merely just to get a loving look or a 
 gentle touch. But Mrs. Hesketh was not one 
 of those stupid little flirts who are forever 
 getting into trouble. She saw in the wise and 
 discreet use of this fascinating accomplishment 
 the very easiest means of obtaining the one 
 object of her life : advancement in the social 
 scale.
 
 MRS, HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 89 
 
 "What fools men are," she would often say 
 as she recounted her many little victories. 
 
 When at Simla last summer she had com- 
 pletely captivated the commander-in-chief, and 
 it was well known that one word from Mrs. 
 Hesketh would go further with Sir Leigh 
 Stover than whole piles of credentials. 
 
 " By Jove ! there is not a thing I wouldn't 
 do for that woman," his excellency was often 
 heard to say. And Sir Leigh simply spoke the 
 honest truth. He was as fine an old soldier as 
 ever stepped, but he was the veriest coward in 
 the hands of a pretty woman. 
 
 Mr. Hesketh's brother civilians all declared 
 that he got his present appointment entirely 
 through his brother's influence at the India 
 office, but Sir Leigh Stover knew better than 
 that. So did Amy Hesketh. 
 
 The dinner party to which Bertram Bernard 
 was invited was, as we have said, specially 
 given to the major-general commanding the 
 division. 
 
 Monday evening came, and Mr. and Mrs. 
 Hesketh awaited the arrival of their guests. 
 Two native orderlies paced the verandah to
 
 90 RUHAINAH. 
 
 give dignity to the occasion, while the sardar, 
 or chief native servant, stood ready to take the 
 shawls, rampur chaders, and cloaks, as the 
 guests arrived. 
 
 The tall graceful form of Mrs. Hesketh 
 contrasted strangely with the short insignificant 
 figure of her husband. But Mr. Hesketh's 
 pleasing and gentlemanly bearing compensated, 
 somewhat, for the absence of nature's gifts, and 
 showed clearly that he was not only a man of 
 education, but also of good breeding and 
 refinement. 
 
 Mr. Hesketh received his guests in a small 
 ante-room, and taking each lady on his arm upon 
 her arrival presented her to his wife, who stood 
 graceful and queenly by the wood fire which 
 blazed on the hearth. 
 
 First came Mr. and Mrs. Drayton, of the 
 uncovenanted service. Both Mr. and Mrs. 
 Drayton belonged to two of the best families 
 in Ireland, Mr. Drayton being the grandson 
 of an Irish earl, but being " uncovenanted " 
 they were but on the fringe of the charmed 
 circle of Anglo-Indian society, taking their 
 social standing with quartermasters,paymasters,
 
 MRS. HESKE TH ' S DINNER PARTY. 91 
 
 and members of the police, salt, and telegraph 
 departments. 
 
 Mrs. Hesketh received them most kindly. 
 She liked blue blood. Besides, she was fond of 
 patronizing small folks, especially when those 
 small folks were reduced nobility. 
 
 Mrs. Hesketh took intense interest in Mrs. 
 Drayton's baby, for she had none of her own, 
 and she affected to share the anxieties of the 
 young and inexperienced mother who had left 
 her helpless babe to the care of a native ayah. 
 
 " You know these native women have a 
 horrid way of giving opium to babies when 
 they are restless." A piece of information 
 which served but to increase the poor mother's 
 anxieties, for her child was teething. 
 
 Amy Hesketh was about to soothe Mrs. 
 Drayton's fears, when Mr. Hesketh brought in 
 Mrs. Lawson, followed by her husband, Colonel 
 Lawson, of the commissariat department. 
 
 Mrs. Lawson was the religious light of 
 Peshawur. She thought so herself, and the 
 world took her at her own valuation. Mrs. 
 Lawson kept a mental record of the religious 
 condition of her neighbors and divided them
 
 92 RUHAINAH. 
 
 all into " the saved " and " the unsaved " : 
 the " worldly " and the " Christian ". 
 
 Mrs. Lawson from the first time she met 
 Amy Hesketh at Simla had quite decided that 
 she was an " unsaved woman ". 
 
 Such a consummate flirt could never enter 
 the Kingdom of Heaven ! Others thought so 
 too besides the wife of the commissariat 
 officer. And yet there were perhaps few chil- 
 dren of darkness who had been called " an 
 angel " as often as poor Amy Hesketh. Mrs. 
 Lawson's s/ieot was well filled, and she seemed 
 to derive some comfort from so ghastly a con- 
 templation. 
 
 Mrs. Lawson was Mrs. Hesketh's abomina- 
 tion. " That woman's virtues consist simply 
 in the absence of temptation ! " Mrs. Hesketh 
 often said. " Or perhaps her virtues are but 
 vice worn out," said Sir Leigh Stover when 
 he came under Mrs. Lawson's heavy condem- 
 nation at Simla. 
 
 The civil surgeon, Dr. Bubbles, next arrived. 
 He was a big portly man with a red face, and 
 had, as is generally the case, a meek quiet little 
 wife. In addition to his medical duties he
 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 93 
 
 had charge of the jail. He was a better jailer 
 than a doctor, so most people said. 
 
 Then came Major Lawry of the Royal Horse 
 Artillery, Mrs. Hesketh's special favorite. 
 Lawry was anything but a handsome man. 
 His height was decidedly below the average. 
 His face lacked expression. But he was a 
 decided favorite among both men and women. 
 He was a good listener. He had always 
 on his expressionless face a good humored 
 smile which meant anything you please, and 
 he was master of the Peshawur Vale hounds 
 and was always ready with a good foxy 
 song. 
 
 " Major Lawry," whispered his fair hostess, 
 " I am so sorry you will not sit next me this even- 
 ing, but my husband says I must give you all 
 your proper places as the general is here. I 
 hate official etiquette, don't you ?" The kind 
 and responsive pressure of Mrs. Hesketh's ten- 
 der hand was assuring, and the major smiled, as 
 he always did. 
 
 The guests now began to arrive in quick suc- 
 cession. The Reverend J. B. Brown, the 
 station chaplain. An inoffensive sort of man
 
 94 RUHAINAH. 
 
 who did his duty like a Christian, but who had 
 not yet been enrolled on Mrs. Lawson's list of 
 saints. There was not enough brimstone in 
 the Reverend Mr. Brown's sermons to suit Mrs. 
 Lawson's theology. 
 
 Next came Colonel and Mrs. Noble, of Her 
 Majesty's I loth Regiment, just arrived from 
 England, with a very strong aversion to Anglo- 
 Indian customs. 
 
 Then Captain and Mrs. Tompkins, lately mar- 
 ried. Edith Tompkins was a pretty girl who 
 had left the quiet retirement of a country rec- 
 tory in England. She was quite nervous at 
 the thought of meeting a live " major-general," 
 for it was her first dinner party, and she had not 
 been used to military society. 
 
 Mrs. Lawson saw in the innocent beauty a 
 possible convert, and was kind and gracious. 
 Amy Hesketh saw a possible rival, and was 
 cynical and stiff. 
 
 The general was late. Sir Hugh Staley 
 usually was at dinner, although never at 
 parade. 
 
 " I am delighted to see you, Sir Hugh ; how 
 well you are looking ! " said Mrs. Hesketh as
 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 95 
 
 the old hero marched with a military air into 
 the drawing room with his little aide-de-camp 
 Perkins close behind him. 
 
 The gallant old man held the hand of his 
 kind hostess until he received the usual respon- 
 sive pressure. "There! isn't that a splendid 
 rose, Mrs. Hesketh. I grafted the tree in my 
 own garden. You can get as good roses in 
 this part of the world as in any place I 
 know." 
 
 " Oh, thank you, general. How very kind 
 of you," she said as she smelt the rose (the old 
 fool thought she kissed it) "how good of you 
 to think of me ! " And she placed it in her 
 bosom. 
 
 " Khanah mezpar " " dinner is on the table," 
 shouted a native servant standing at the dining- 
 room door, just as the gallant general was sip- 
 ping his sherry bitters. 
 
 "We cannot wait for Major Bernard," said 
 Mrs. Hesketh somewhat angrily, " I hardly 
 expected he would come." 
 
 She had scarcely finished the sentence, when 
 the native orderly announced "the Major 
 Sahib."
 
 96 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " I am so sorry I am late, Mrs. Hesketh, but 
 one of my men was dying, and I could not find 
 it in my heart to refuse to see the poor fellow 
 when he sent for me." 
 
 "Is he dead?" 
 
 "Yes, he died in my arms. He was an 
 Afghan of the Yusafzai district, from which I 
 think we get our best recruits, a faithful man 
 who saved my life in the mutiny." 
 
 Mr. Hesketh gave Mrs. Noble, as the senior 
 lady, his arm and led the way ; pretty Mrs. 
 Tompkins fell to the lot of Major Bertram, 
 while Mrs. Hesketh leaning on the general's 
 arm brought up the rear. 
 
 "A good fellow that Major Bernard. He is 
 perfectly adored by his men," said the general 
 in an undertone. 
 
 " I believe he is," said Mrs. Hesketh ; " but as 
 an officer commanding a crack regiment, I 
 think he ought to give a little more of his time 
 to social duties." 
 
 The whole company having taken their 
 places at the dinner-table, the Reverend Mr. 
 Brown said a short grace (brevity always char- 
 acterized the reverend gentleman's religious
 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. g^ 
 
 duties), and the native attendants handed round 
 the soup. Major Bernard found a pleasing 
 companion in Mrs. Tompkins. Her unaffected 
 manners perfectly charmed him. 
 
 " A great change this military life from your 
 quiet country rectory," he said. 
 
 "Yes, and I am still a little homesick, but 
 you all seem very kind and sociable." 
 
 " It is very gracious of you to say so, Mrs. 
 Tompkins," he replied, " for I am just re- 
 minded that I have never yet called upon you." 
 
 " You must be very busy? " 
 
 "Yes, I am. For I try to take a personal 
 interest in my men, and I am now giving some 
 time to the study of Pushto." 
 
 " What is Pushto ? " 
 
 " It is the language spoken by the Afghans." 
 
 "Is it difficult?" 
 
 "The pronunciation is exceedingly difficult. 
 I once asked one of my men what it was like, 
 and he put a number of pebbles in an earthen 
 pot and rattled it. ' Pushto sounds like that,' 
 he said." 
 
 " You were all through the mutiny, were 
 you not? "
 
 98 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Yes. I was at Lucknow under that splen- 
 did fellow, Henry Lawrence." 
 
 " I think you said that poor man who died 
 saved your life ? " 
 
 "Yes. He actually threw himself over me, 
 and received the sword cut intended for me." 
 
 " How noble of him ! " 
 
 " Many of them are very noble fellows. 
 They are a nation of men, and I believe are 
 yet destined to play an important part in the 
 world's history, even as they have done in the 
 past. And yet many of them are perfect sav- 
 ages." 
 
 " Major Bernard ! " said Mrs. Hesketh, who 
 sat opposite, and who felt she was being some- 
 what ignored under the fascinating influences 
 of the country rector's daughter. " Major 
 Bernard ! I want to ask you a question. You 
 are so clever, and know all about these strange 
 Afghans. Is it true they can divorce their 
 wives at a moment's notice? " 
 
 (Mrs. Lawson looked agonies.) 
 
 " Yes, it is quite true. If a husband even raises 
 his three fingers or drops three stones, or even 
 says the words three times, his wife is divorced."
 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 99 
 
 " How horrid ! " exclaimed Mrs. Hesketh. 
 
 " Take care Hesketh doesn't raise his three 
 fingers," whispered the general. 
 
 " I believe the Afghans are the lost tribes of 
 Israel," said Mrs. Lawson in measured tones, 
 anxious to change the subject. 
 
 " They have the tradition among them- 
 selves, but there is no trace of it in their lan- 
 guage," replied Bernard. 
 
 The dinner lasted fully two hours, for Sir 
 Hugh was a well-known gourmand, and Mrs. 
 Hesketh had supplied an almost inexhaustive 
 menu, including locust curry, which was the 
 general's special weakness. 
 
 When the ladies had left the table, Mr. Hes- 
 keth took his wine-glass and came to the side 
 of the table occupied by Major Bernard. 
 
 " Bernard, government is very anxious to 
 secure your services regarding this Khyber 
 business, but we will talk it over a little later," 
 he whispered. 
 
 It was not until the gentlemen had joined 
 the ladies that Mr. Hesketh took Major Ber- 
 nard into his office and told him that he had 
 suggested his name as the best man to send on
 
 too RUHAINAff. 
 
 a confidential mission beyond the frontier, and 
 that he had only a few hours ago received the 
 necessary instructions. 
 
 " There is," said Hesketh, " an influential 
 chieftain residing at Abukilla, near Jalalabad, 
 named Abdullah, and known as the ' Rustum 
 of Herat,' and government think that it is only 
 through his influence that we can stop these 
 raids on our frontier." 
 
 " It is a business entirely after my own 
 heart," said Bernard. 
 
 " Yes, but we all know it is a mission of 
 some peril." 
 
 "Allah Hafiz, God is protector! " exclaimed 
 Bernard. 
 
 " Put this bundle of papers into your over- 
 coat," said Mr. Hesketh, as he opened the 
 office door and entered the ante-room leading 
 to the drawing-room. 
 
 Mr. Hesketh's presence cut short an earnest 
 effort on Mrs. Lawson's part to persuade the 
 general to become a total abstainer. 
 
 "You know, Sir Hugh, that Sale's brigade at 
 Jalalabad had no beer or rum, but did all their 
 fighting on water."
 
 MRS. HESKETH'S DINNER PARTY. 101 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Lawson, that is an historic fact," 
 replied Sir Hugh, sarcastically. "They couldn't 
 get it for the life of them, but I cannot give up 
 my wine. You see, Mrs. Lawson, I like it, 
 which is to me an irresistible argument. When 
 I am shut up in Jalalabad and can't get my 
 wine I will become a total abstainer! " and the 
 general laughed at his little joke. 
 
 " Major Bernard," said Mrs. Hesketh, anxious 
 to cover poor Mrs. Lawson's seeming defeat, 
 " before you came into the room I was telling 
 Colonel Noble that I think Buddhism the best 
 religion, at which dear Mrs. Tompkins has been 
 dreadfully shocked." 
 
 " Yes," replied Bernard, looking at Mrs. 
 Tompkins, " Buddhism has many attractions 
 for the thoughtful mind. But, speaking as an 
 unbiased judge, I am bound to say that Gautama, 
 the Buddha, can never do for mankind what 
 the teaching of Jesus of Nazareth has done." 
 
 " You say you speak as an unbiased person, 
 by which I suppose you mean as a student," 
 said the Reverend Mr. Brown, deeply inter- 
 ested. " Will you kindly tell us why you have 
 arrived at such a conclusion ? "
 
 102 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Because the leading thought in Buddhism is, 
 that life is an evil, and the sooner you pass into 
 Nirvanah, or annihilation, the better, while Jesus 
 taught that life, both temporal and eternal, is 
 a blessing : Christianity is a thing to live by." 
 
 " This part of the world was formerly the 
 seat of a great Buddhist kingdom ? " said Dr. 
 Bubbles inquiringly. 
 
 "Yes, there are extensive ruins all through 
 this valley, and yet there is not a single Budd- 
 hist to be found in the whole country now." 
 
 It was long past ten o'clock, and Mrs. Noble 
 left, and the rest of the party soon followed. 
 
 " Do stay a little longer, Major Bernard," 
 said Mrs. Hesketh. " You are so interesting." 
 
 There was something in Amy Hesketh's 
 expression of face as she looked at him, which 
 reminded him of his Lucknow days. 
 
 " Mrs. Hesketh ! pardon my asking you the 
 question, but had you a sister at Lucknow ? " 
 
 "Yes, my poor sister Eva was there." 
 
 "Poor! what has happened? You mean 
 Mrs. Burton ? " 
 
 " Yes, poor girl, she lost her husband only a 
 few weeks ago."
 
 MRS. HESKETfTS DINNER PARTY. 103 
 
 " I knew Mrs. Burton very well." 
 
 " Yes, I have often heard her speak of you. 
 So you are really going to Cabul ? " 
 
 " It is all a state secret, I believe, but I shall 
 most likely find my way there if the Afghans 
 don't kill me." 
 
 " My husband has no state secrets from me," 
 she said. " Do you know that my father was 
 killed in Cabul ? " 
 
 " Was your mother there ? " 
 
 " I really cannot say. I believe she died on 
 the march from Cabul. We never knew the 
 whole story of our parents' deaths. How 
 deeply interested Eva will be when she knows 
 you are in Cabul. I will write to her by the 
 next mail." 
 
 Bernard soon mounted h'is horse, and rode 
 leisurely up the mall. He was lost in contem- 
 plation. " Eva Burton a widow ! How strange! 
 What a power of fascination she had over me ! 
 It is strange that I should hear of Burton's 
 death just when I am most probably taking a 
 leap into the dark valley myself ! "
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 SISTER LYDIA. 
 
 V FTER a sleepless and restless night, Major 
 \ Bernard rose early. Clad in a loose Cashmere 
 choga, seated in his verandah, he summoned to 
 his presence an Afghan officer of his regiment 
 known as " Rasaldar Dilawar." 
 
 This faithful man had long been Bernard's 
 confidential adviser in all matters pertaining to 
 Central Asian politics, and never once had he 
 betrayed the trust. 
 
 Dilawar had, in his younger days, been a noted 
 brigand, but under the strict vigilance of British 
 rule he had found it wiser to exchange the un- 
 certain career of a wild robber for the more 
 regular occupation of a disciplined soldier. 
 
 Through the influence and teaching of a pious 
 officer he had embraced Christianity. His re- 
 ligion, it is true, was of a somewhat eclectic 
 type, embracing, as it did, a combination of the
 
 SISTER LYDIA. IC >5 
 
 teachings of Mohamed, Gautama, and Nanak, 
 with those of the Bible, but such a belief, while 
 it attached him to the conquering race, es- 
 tranged him from his own countrymen, and con- 
 sequently made him a still more loyal and use- 
 ful servant of the state. 
 
 It was to Dilawar that Major Bernard care- 
 fully unfolded his plans for the proposed mis- 
 sion. 
 
 " Sahib ! " said the Rasaldar, " it is impossi- 
 ble. You will certainly be killed if you at- 
 tempt the Khyber route, and, as you are aware, 
 all the other mountain passes are closed." 
 
 " There is danger, very great danger, I know, 
 but you and I, friend Dilawar, have braved 
 danger before," replied Bernard. 
 
 " May my life be sacrificed for you ! If you 
 go I shall go with you." 
 
 " It was for this very purpose I sent for you, 
 Dilawar, I want you to accompany me. You 
 are about the only native I could trust." 
 
 " Well, sir, if any man can go you can. 
 Your kindness and hospitality to the Afghans 
 are well known, and may secure you protec- 
 tion."
 
 106 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " I have always been a well wisher to the 
 Afghan race, for I believe there is still a high 
 destiny in store for them." 
 
 " But you must bear in mind that you are 
 now going to seize one of their most desperate 
 leaders." 
 
 " That is true, but according to your own 
 information Hasan and his band have already 
 fled from their own country. We are therefore 
 not likely to fall in with any of them in the 
 Khyber." 
 
 " That is quite true, sir," replied Dilawar. 
 
 " Then I ought to tell you that I once enter- 
 tained Hasan under peculiar circumstances. A 
 price was set on his head, and yet, relying on 
 my word, he came and stayed a night with me 
 and gave very important information. And I 
 do really believe if I were to meet Hasan he 
 would give me protection in his own village, 
 feeling bound to do so by the laws of hospital- 
 ity." 
 
 " Major Sahib ! " said Dilawar with great firm- 
 ness, " you cannot trust an Afghan, although I 
 say it who am an Afghan myself." 
 
 " Dilawar ! I have trusted you, and I shall
 
 SISTER LYDIA. 107 
 
 always trust you. There are good and bad 
 among all races of people." 
 
 " No, Sahib ! don't trust even me," said the 
 brave old soldier with a smile. 
 
 " Indeed I shall. Now listen ! We must 
 start at once, before it is possible for Hasan to 
 know our intentions. I shall assume no dis- 
 guise. Where British money goes there a 
 British officer ought to find protection. We 
 have poured lacs of rupees into Afghanistan 
 and the Afghan people must protect me. I shall 
 wear the native costume, because I know my 
 Afghan friends like to see me in it. But I 
 shall attempt no disguise. Our baggage must go 
 on one mule and you must engage a good mule- 
 teer. A Hindu will be safest, for, as you say, 
 we can't trust an Afghan." 
 
 The Rasaldar was amazed at his master's ap- 
 parent rashness. 
 
 "Well! just as you think wisest and right, 
 sir. You know best. If I had my way I would 
 disarm the whole Afghan nation, and hang 
 every Khyber brigand I could lay my hands on." 
 
 " And it is not so many years since you were 
 a brigand yourself, my friend ! "
 
 108 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Yes, and if you had hanged me it would 
 have saved government a lot of trouble. But 
 you have made me into a Rasaldar and have 
 decorated me with all these bits of silver," he 
 said, pointing to his medals and laughing heart- 
 fly. 
 
 "Ah, Dilawar! have you never heard the 
 English proverb ' set a thief to catch a thief ' ? 
 You were doubtless a first-class brigand and 
 hence you are one of the smartest soldiers in 
 the native army." 
 
 Dilawar acknowledged the compliment with 
 a salaam. " Yes, we also say, ' take a stick 
 from the tree and fix it to the axe '." 
 
 The conversation was interrupted by the 
 arrival of Garson, the major of brigade, Ber- 
 nard's most intimate friend. The Rasaldar 
 saluted the officers and retired to the cook- 
 house, outside the bungalow, to enjoy his pipe. 
 
 The two friends were soon engaged in serious 
 conversation regarding the expedition. 
 
 "Well, Bernard, all I can say is, if you 
 succeed in capturing Hasan the Khyberee, and 
 thus save our cheese-paring government the 
 expense of an expedition, you will be knighted !
 
 SISTER L YDIA. 109 
 
 knighted, sir ! And, as old Colonel Mangles 
 is always saying, you will be commander-in- 
 chief some day." 
 
 " Yes," continued Garson, after a short pause, 
 in which he had waited for Bernard to speak, 
 "yes, it is worth the venture. Slain in the 
 Khyber, or decorated with a K. C. B. Yes, 
 by Jove ! it is worth the risk. Westminster 
 Abbey or " 
 
 " Abukilla," added Bernard, with a smile. 
 
 " Garson ! " said Bernard, looking seriously, 
 "you will not accuse me of cowardice, I know, 
 when I tell you that I have a very strong pre- 
 sentiment, indeed, an overpowering conviction, 
 that I shall end my days in Afghanistan, as 
 so many others have done before me." 
 
 " Well, my dear fellow, don't be down-hearted 
 about it. 7 have a strong presentiment that 
 you will return and be a great man some day." 
 
 " Now, Garson, let us descend from the re- 
 gions of dream-land to the ordinary (or rather, 
 to the extraordinary) affairs of life. There 
 are one or two things I want you to do for me." 
 
 " I am your honor's slave," said Garson, 
 affecting a lightness of heart which he did not
 
 110 RUHAINAH. 
 
 feel, for he too thought it likely he would never 
 see his friend Bernard again. 
 
 " I want you to take charge of this dispatch- 
 box. It contains my private papers. Should 
 anything happen to me, send it to Sister 
 Lydia, of the Dalston Sisterhood in London." 
 
 " And who is ' Sister Lydia ' ? " 
 
 " Garson ! I had almost said it is no business 
 of yours, but you have always been a true 
 friend to me, and you shall know. 
 
 "When I was in London last year," Ber- 
 nard continued, "I was seized with scarlet fever 
 in my lonely lodgings in Gower Street. My 
 pious old aunt, who is a district visitor in 
 Canon Sleek's parish, and who is almost the 
 only relative I have in the world, never came 
 near me, but left me to the tender mercies 
 of the lodging-house keeper. The doctor, who 
 was a religious man, wrote to a sisterhood in 
 Dalston, which was, at that time, being attacked 
 in some of the religious newspapers, and they 
 sent me a nurse in the person of a young lady 
 clad in a religious habit. She never divulged her 
 name, and was known to me and the doctor 
 only as ' Sister Lydia.' She attended to my
 
 SZS TER L YD I A . Ill 
 
 wants with the greatest devotion. She often 
 read to me, and frequently spoke to me, on 
 religious subjects. I became warmly attached 
 to her, and although not a word on the sub- 
 ject was ever exchanged between us, I could 
 see that she was deeply interested in me." 
 
 Garson elevated his eyebrows. 
 
 ''You need not smile, Garson. Man of the 
 world though I am, or rather was, I should 
 have thought it sacrilege to have attempted 
 to gain the affections of a girl who had 
 taken, as I found she had, the vows of 
 her order. She seemed to feel the awkward- 
 ness of her position, and when she left me she 
 made the strange compact that while she would 
 allow me to correspond with her, I would never 
 attempt to see her again. ' It is better not,' 
 she said, with a tearful eye; and I made the 
 promise on the one condition that I should pos- 
 sess her portrait. That cameo over my mantel- 
 piece, which I always show as ' my sister's ' por- 
 trait, is her likeness. I tried to get some fur- 
 ther information regarding her from my old 
 landlady, but all she knew was that Sister 
 Lydia's father had been killed somewhere in
 
 112 RUHAINAH. 
 
 India a circumstance which, I need scarcely tell 
 you, did but increase my interest in her. I 
 have a faint recollection .that she did once tell 
 me her father's name. It was one night when 
 she thought I was dying, but it has certainly 
 passed from my memory. We correspond reg- 
 ularly, but her letters are always on the subject 
 of religion." 
 
 "A very interesting flirtation!" exclaimed 
 Garson. 
 
 "Garson, my good fellow! you really make me 
 angry. I tell you there has been no flirtation." 
 
 " I beg your pardon. But you must admit 
 that it is a very romantic and interesting epi- 
 sode in a fellow's life," replied Garson. 
 
 " I don't mind confessing to you, Garson, 
 that that woman, child in fact, for she could 
 not be much more than twenty years of age, 
 not only saved my life but restored my faith. 
 If I were on my death bed now, I should throw 
 all systems of theology and of philosophy to 
 the winds and say simply, my faith is that of 
 Sister Lydia's." 
 
 " Even as a little child," said Garson, quoting 
 the chaplain's text of last Sunday's sermon.
 
 SISTER L YDIA. 1 13 
 
 " Yes, that is just it, Garson. The truth is, 
 the Punjab has been rather overdone with 
 religion of late. But, as I understand it, Sister 
 Lydia's faith, as exemplified in her simple life, 
 is more like the teaching of the Son of God 
 than anything I have yet seen." 
 
 "Well, I believe more in the religion of Sister 
 Lydia than I do in that of Mrs. Lawson, who 
 won't even give our good little chaplain a 
 place in the Kingdom of Heaven." 
 
 " I judge no man ; or woman either. Not 
 even Mrs. Lawson," said Bernard. 
 
 " You are the most charitable being I have 
 ever met with. But you must admit there are 
 some very unpleasant Christians in the 
 world." 
 
 "Yes, I admit it. And I must confess that 
 until I was brought in contact with that simple 
 minded little Christian from Dalston, I 
 had always avoided the so called Christian 
 society." 
 
 " And no wonder," exclaimed Garson as he 
 lit a cigar. " To tell you the honest truth, I 
 hope these good Christian people will change 
 their dispositions, be a little more amiable, talk
 
 114 RUHAINAH. 
 
 less scandal, etc., before they get into the King- 
 dom of Heaven, or really I shall feel quite 
 uncomfortable in their society. Heaven, no 
 matter how angelic the music, would be a very 
 unpleasant place with a bevy of Mrs. Lawsons 
 inside its gates." 
 
 "Do you know, Garson, I think you also will 
 have to change a little before you reach the 
 delectable land," said Bernard rather seriously. 
 " But I quite agree with you. And yet, some of 
 these people have very many good points. 
 They are better than their creed. They could not 
 sleep in their beds if they really believed all their 
 theology. I quite expect a great reaction from 
 the present state of things even in my own 
 day." 
 
 " You seem to think I might be better. Well, 
 Bernard, I must go to London, live in Gower 
 Street, get scarlet fever, send for a Dalston 
 sister, yield to the gentle pressure of a loving 
 hand on my feverish brow, respond to the 
 sweet smile of bewitching eyes, and so forth ; 
 and grow good," said Garson laughing. 
 
 " I believe a good wife would be the making 
 of you," said Bernard.
 
 SISTER LYDIA. 115 
 
 " No, I am too young to marry. No man 
 should marry until he is thirty-five." 
 
 " That is contrary to the generally received 
 opinion, is it not ? " 
 
 " I believe it is, and yet all the experience of 
 life seems to prove that I am right. A young 
 fellow, a mere boy, does not know his own mind 
 as to the sort of wife he really needs." 
 
 " But I always thought that falling in love 
 had something to do with it." 
 
 "Well, I suppose it has, but just see how 
 soon men ' fall out ' of love. The genuine 
 article is a very rare thing, I can assure you." 
 
 "Why, Garson, you talk like a sage." 
 
 " Bernard ! tell me candidly and honestly 
 were you ever really in love?" 
 
 Bernard remained for some time in a state of 
 apparent abstraction. He was really thinking 
 of his Lucknow days, and of Gower Street. 
 " That is rather an awkward question." 
 
 " I thought so," said Garson smiling. 
 
 " Well, I do really believe I am telling you 
 the downright honest truth when I say, I have 
 never known what true love is. But at the 
 same time I must tell you, it has been my mis-
 
 Ii6 RUHAINAH. 
 
 fortune on two occasions to become very much 
 fascinated with those with whom I could not 
 honorably fall in love." 
 
 "Ah ! I thought a man of your age couldn't 
 have escaped altogether." , 
 
 " But excuse me, my friend, were_jw/ ever in 
 love?" inquired Bernard. 
 
 " It is my chronic state and condition," said 
 Garson. 
 
 " I thought as much," said Bernard. " But 
 let us proceed to business. Please take the 
 greatest care of this little box, for it contains 
 valuable government securities, and if you hear 
 of my death send it to Sister Lydia." 
 
 " All right, Bernard, if those Afghans do cut 
 you up, ' Sister Lydia ' shall have the precious 
 box, even if I go by the overland route and 
 deliver it myself." 
 
 Captain Garson then left for his own quarters 
 with a native servant carrying the dispatch box 
 behind him. And Major Bernard sat down at 
 his office table, and wrote the following letter : 
 " DEAR SISTER LYDIA 
 
 " I am starting on an important politi- 
 cal mission beyond the British frontier. In
 
 SISTER LYDIA. llf 
 
 the present unsettled state of the country 
 it is certainly a very hazardous undertaking. 
 The chances (if you will allow me to speak 
 of chances), are very much against my ever 
 returning. I have, therefore, thought it neces- 
 sary to arrange all my worldly affairs. 
 
 " I am leaving in the charge of Captain Gar- 
 son, the major of brigade at Peshavvur, a 
 dispatch-box, which contains my last will and 
 testament. You are my executrix and my 
 sole legatee. I have considerable property, but 
 it is all at your disposal. Your vows of poverty 
 will, perhaps, prevent your taking it yourself, 
 but you can apply it at your discretion to char- 
 itable uses. You need not scruple to receive 
 it, for my only surviving relative is a rich 
 maiden aunt, who has more money than she 
 knows what to do with. 
 
 " And now, my dear friend, I cannot conclude 
 this letter, written as it is under peculiar cir- 
 cumstances, without saying once more, what I 
 have often written, that you have, by your 
 simple methods, exercised a marvellous influ- 
 ence over both my mental and religious life. 
 Your kind ministrations to me last year, and
 
 Il8 RUHAINAH. 
 
 your many sweet Christian letters since, have 
 made me both a wiser and a better man. Mine 
 has, in many respects, been a disjointed and 
 broken life, some would say an inconsistent life, 
 but you have done much to bring the links 
 together. 
 
 " When we parted you said we must never 
 meet again. Not in this world of sin and 
 sorrow, perhaps, but I shall humbly hope to 
 meet you in Heaven : 
 
 ' Where thou, sweet saint, before the choir shall go, 
 As harbinger of heaven, the way to show, 
 The way which thou so well hast learned below.' 
 
 " Ever sincerely yours, 
 
 " BERTRAM BERNARD."
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 
 
 WHO comes there?" 
 " Friend ! " 
 
 "Pass, friend! All is well!" replied the 
 sentry. 
 
 And Major Bernard and his faithful Afghan 
 friend Dilawar passed the military guard on the 
 very spot where, only a few weeks before, the 
 whole cavalry picket had been massacred to a 
 man by Hasan and his desperate band. 
 
 " Don't loiter behind," said Dilawar to the 
 muleteer who came with the baggage. "We 
 must all keep together." 
 
 It was a little past midnight when they 
 started on their way, and they had scarcely 
 reached the entrance of the dismal and 
 uninviting Khyber by sunrise. 
 
 " Har kala rasha ! May you ever come!"
 
 120 RUHAINAH. 
 
 exclaimed a horseman, as he galloped up to the 
 side of the English officer. 
 
 " Who are you ? " said Dilawar, placing his 
 hand upon his revolver. "Come you as friend 
 or foe ? " 
 
 " I come as a friend. I am Alak, the son of 
 Abdullah, the Rustum of Herat. I am sent by 
 my father to escort the English officer in safety 
 to our fort." 
 
 " You are indeed welcome," replied Bernard. 
 
 The arrival of the chieftain's son was a great 
 relief to Major Bernard's mind, for, knowing that 
 Alak was a secret member of the Guild of the 
 Red Hand, he felt he could not possibly have 
 a better or a safer escort. 
 
 " Major Sahib ! " said Alak, " let me tell you 
 before we enter the Pass, that neither I nor 
 any human being can control the actions of a 
 wild unmanageable spirit like Hasan the 
 Khyberee." 
 
 " Hasan and I are not strangers to each 
 other. He was my guest on one occasion 
 when his life was entirely at my mercy," replied 
 Bernard. 
 
 "That may be quite true," said Alak, " But
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 121 
 
 you must bear in mind that you are on a 
 special expedition for his capture." 
 
 " Well, not exactly for his capture. My 
 special mission is the suppression of the raids 
 on our frontier. But if I become his guest I 
 shall expect the same protection in his country, 
 as I once gave to him when he sojourned 
 with me." 
 
 " I will explain matters to him if we meet 
 (which God grant we may not). Although 
 I scarcely expect to see him, for I am told he 
 has fled into the distant hills," said Alak. 
 
 A tedious journey of some nineteen miles 
 brought the party to Ali Masjid, the well- 
 known fort in the centre of the defile. The 
 fort is situated on the heights above the road 
 and was at this time occupied by a strong 
 garrison of the Ameer's troops. 
 
 The Afghan commandant of the fort was 
 an old and well-trusted servant of the Ameer, 
 but as Major Bernard came with no creden- 
 tials from his highness he did not receive the 
 foreigner with the very best grace. 
 
 " I admit," said Major Bernard, " that it 
 would have been more in order if I possessed
 
 122 RUHAINAH. 
 
 a pass from the Ameer, but surely these 
 letters from my own government ought to 
 be sufficient. Afghans travel through the 
 length and breadth of India with perfect 
 safety. Why then is your country closed 
 to the English traveller ? " 
 
 " That is true, sir," said the command- 
 ' ant; "but it was your invading army which 
 closed Afghanistan against you. Before you 
 forced yourselves as conquerors you were wel- 
 come everywhere. The Afghans have ever 
 been a hospitable race." 
 
 The commandant supplied them with such 
 fare as the garrison possessed and gave them 
 comfortable quarters for the night. At sunrise 
 they left with the salutations of peace and 
 resumed their journey. The road from Ali 
 Masjid to Lundi Kotal is through the stony 
 bed of a mountain stream and opens on to a 
 small arid plain in which are the ruins of an 
 old Buddhist tope. It then rises along the 
 side of the lower ranges until it descends to 
 the valley of Dakka from whence the traveller 
 obtains sight of the Cabul River and the eternal 
 gnows of the Hindu-Kush in the far off distance.
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 123 
 
 The hospitality of the fort and the assuring 
 presence of Alak, together with the uneventful 
 character of the journey, had made the travel- 
 lers almost forget they were in an enemy's 
 country, and as they were in sight of the 
 Ameer's territory, Major Bernard had begun to 
 think the perils of the journey were well nigh 
 over. 
 
 The faithful Dilawar had even begun to 
 pay less attention to the loaded chambers of 
 his Colt's revolver, while the Hindu muleteer- 
 in restful security, was singing the familiar ditty 
 of nani pant. 
 
 Bernard had just lighted a cheroot, when a 
 rapid fire of muskets from the rocks above 
 opened briskly upon them. 
 
 "Lubaika ! " cried Alak, giving the pass-word 
 of the guild, and the firing ceased. 
 
 In a few moments they were confronted 
 with none other than the desperate brigand 
 Hasan the Khyberee and two of his chosen 
 band. 
 
 Bernard and Dilawar presented their revolvers 
 and the brigands at once saw the horsemen 
 had the advantage.
 
 124 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Not one step nearer, friends," exclaimed 
 Dilawar, " or you are all dead men," 
 
 " One question I will put to you, O brother 
 Alak, and it is this : in the name of the 
 Prophet, what brings you in company with 
 infidels : with those who eat pork, drink wine, 
 and curse our Prophet's holy name ? " said 
 Hasan. 
 
 " They are my father's guests." 
 
 " True, but they are the enemies of our 
 religion and of our race ! " 
 
 "Stay!" exclaimed Bernard in excellent 
 Pushto ; " if I remember rightly even Hasan 
 the Khyberee once ate the salt of the infidel 
 he now despises ! 
 
 Hasan, heedless of the six chambers of 
 Dilawar's revolver, sprang forward and seized 
 Major Bernard's hand " And is it you, Major 
 Sahib ! Hasan has never slain one whose salt 
 he has eaten. You shall pass in peace." 
 
 " You needn't talk about slaying," said 
 Dilawar, " for it would appear we are more 
 than a match for you." 
 
 " Silence, Dilawar !" said Bernard; "this is 
 not the time nor the place for a strife of words.
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 125 
 
 We are Hasan's guests, and we are truly in- 
 debted to him for protection." 
 
 Hasan assisted Major Bernard to dismount, 
 and his two followers led the horses behind 
 them as they strolled leisurely to a little village 
 close by.. 
 
 Cots were soon drawn out in front of the vil- 
 lage guest-house, and pillows and quilts were 
 spread for the hospitable entertainment of the 
 strangers by Hasan and his companions. 
 
 " You can rest here in peace," said Hasan, 
 " and continue your journey in the cool of the 
 evening. Mounted as you are, you can easily 
 reach the fort of the Rustum of Herat by night 
 prayer." 
 
 " Your kindness and hospitality are indeed 
 great," said Bernard, " but we must take care 
 of our baggage." 
 
 " The baggage need not cause you any 
 anxiety. We can take care of that," said the 
 brigand with a suppressed smile. 
 
 "Solomon the sage " soon arrived with two 
 cups of sherbet, which he handed to the 
 travellers, when, just as they raised the vessels 
 to their lips, a gang of ruffians rushed upon
 
 126 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Bernard and Dilawar and seized their weapons. 
 They soon found themselves bound hand 
 and foot upon two cots, while in the distance 
 they saw the poor helpless Hindu muleteer fall 
 beneath Hasan's dagger. Alak had disap- 
 peared, but whether he had fallen a victim to 
 the treachery of his own guild it was impossible 
 to tell. 
 
 " This is rather a bold scheme of yours, 
 major," said Hasan, as he stood beside the 
 prostrate officer, his hands still stained with the 
 blood of the poor helpless Hindu. " Rather 
 a bold scheme to take the lion in his own lair." 
 
 Bernard remained silent, for he knew that 
 any words of protestation he might utter would 
 but increase the anger of the enraged brigand. 
 But he now saw the folly of trusting the word 
 of a wild and desperate character such as Hasan. 
 
 So fearful were the brigands of the soldierly 
 prowess of the English major and his brave 
 companion, that they kept them securely bound 
 upon the charpoys, not even loosing the thongs 
 to give them their scanty evening meal. 
 
 In this helpless condition Bernard lay till 
 long past midnight, when suddenly he felt the
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 127 
 
 thongs which bound him loosed by a friendly 
 hand. 
 
 " Dilawar, is that you ? " whispered Bernard, 
 as he felt himself gradually restored to liberty. 
 
 " Silence," said Alak (for it was he). " It 
 can never be that a guest of the Rustum of 
 Herat perish in the infernal regions of the 
 Khyber." 
 
 "But are you not a sworn member of their 
 band ? " 
 
 " This is not the time for questions. Follow 
 me." 
 
 " I cannot go without Dilawar." 
 
 " That you must, for he was slain about an 
 hour ago." 
 
 " By whom ? " 
 
 " By Hasan's own hand." 
 
 " Then I shall not leave this place until I 
 have avenged his death." 
 
 " That is impossible. Remember, you are 
 unarmed." 
 
 "Where is Hasan? " 
 
 " He has retired to his house, and has left 
 me in charge of his prisoner. No time must 
 be lost. Keep your lips closed. Follow me.
 
 128 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 Mount your horse and ride for your very life 
 to our fort at Abukilla. The road is good." 
 
 " Give me my sword and revolver." 
 
 " There they are," said Alak. 
 
 Alak led Major Bernard silently to a small 
 coppice close to the village graveyard, where 
 his white charger was tethered. They were 
 soon mounted. 
 
 "Why do you linger?" said Alak. 
 
 " I must once more gaze on the face of my 
 faithful Afghan friend Dilawar." 
 
 " That is impossible," replied Alak, " for his 
 corpse is still stretched on a cot in Hasan's 
 court-yard." 
 
 "Then call Hasan! for escape is impossible 
 until Dilawar's death is avenged." 
 
 " Major Sahib, you're mad ! " 
 
 " Yes, I am." And Major Bernard shouted, 
 " Hasan ! Hasan ! you traitor, come forth ! " 
 
 In a few moments the little village was all 
 excitement as Hasan appeared riding a poor 
 half-starved beast such as usually exists in the 
 barren defile of the Khyber. 
 
 " Remember, Alak ! " said Bernard, with 
 authority, " remember, your safety rests simply
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 129 
 
 in obeying my commands." And the cavalry 
 officer appeared as confident of success as 
 though he had been at the head of his own 
 regiment, instead of commanding a company of 
 " one" and that one a very doubtful ally. 
 
 The villagers opened out an aimless fire 
 from their muskets as Hasan advanced to 
 attack Bernard, who feigned a retreat so as to 
 separate the brigand from his unmounted fol- 
 lowers. 
 
 Hasan continued in hot pursuit, when sud- 
 denly Bernard pulled up and exclaimed : " You 
 traitor ! you coward ! you son of Satan ! " and 
 taking deliberate aim, shot the brigand dead. 
 
 " Shahbash ! Well done ! " exclaimed Alak, 
 as they galloped away at full speed. " Major ! 
 you are a true Afghan, and know how to avenge 
 the death of a friend." 
 
 " Alak ! " said Bernard, with evident emotion, 
 " government could have spared me far better 
 than they could part with a faithful Afghan 
 soldier like Dilawar. But, friend Alak, are 
 you not a member of Hasan's guild ? " 
 
 " Thou hast truly spoken," said Alak, " but 
 you must know that it was concerning the
 
 130 RU II A IN AH. 
 
 death of Dilawar that Hasan and I had a dis- 
 pute last night. My plan was to spare your lives 
 and dictate terms to the English government, 
 but that hypocrite, " Solomon the sage," de- 
 manded the life of the poor old infidel, Dila- 
 war. True, I am a member of the Guild of 
 the Red Hand (and he held up his open palm 
 whereon was the ominous red spot), but I am 
 also the son of the ' Rustum of Herat,' and all 
 the world knows that Abdullah, even in his 
 darkest deeds, ever acted as a man of honor." 
 
 " Alak ! you Afghans are truly a strange peo- 
 ple. The more I see of you the less do I under- 
 stand you." 
 
 " We are Bene Israel. We are indeed a 
 strange people," said Alak, as he urged on his 
 horse. " But if you want to see a real Afghan, 
 wait until you behold the blessed face of my 
 noble father." 
 
 Major Bernard and Alak rode at full speed 
 until they reached the little town of Dakka, 
 where they found saddled horses, and a small 
 escort of mounted retainers sent by the chief 
 of Abukilla. Fatigued by the long and excit- 
 ing journey, and almost broken-hearted at the
 
 RUNNING THE GAUNTLET. 131 
 
 loss of his faithful friend, Major Bernard ar- 
 rived at the pretty little village of Abukilla at 
 sunset and was warmly welcomed as he entered 
 its quaint old fort. 
 
 " Staraima s/iaif " " May you never be tired," 
 exclaimed the fine old chieftain as he received 
 his English guest. 
 
 " Har shah neki! " " May you ever be prosper- 
 ous," responded Bernard, as he dismounted 
 from his jaded steed. 
 
 The whole fort was in a state of bustle and 
 excitement with strenuous efforts to give a 
 hospitable and real Afghan welcome to the for- 
 eigner. Akbar, the slave, the chief's own per- 
 sonal attendant, brought a large chilam, or 
 pipe, another slave handed a glass of sandal 
 sherbet, while the village jester stooped to 
 shampoo the wearied limbs of the newly arrived 
 guest. 
 
 Addullah listened attentively as his son 
 graphically described the exciting incidents of 
 the journey ; and continuous and loud were the 
 " sabashes " and " afreens" as he told the story 
 of Bernard's determination to avenge the death 
 of his Afghan friend. It was evidently a deed
 
 132 RUHAINAH. 
 
 which commended itself to the natural instincts 
 of the Afghan mind. 
 
 "You are right welcome, brave sir, to my 
 poor dwelling. I saw much of the English dur- 
 ing the last war. But we should have liked 
 you better then had you come as friends instead 
 of conquerors. We are of the same race, for 
 our learned men say you also are the sons of 
 Israel." 
 
 "You must pardon my seeing but little of 
 you the next day or two," the old man said, 
 as he rose to leave his guest, " but I am busily 
 engaged in preparations for my second daugh- 
 ter's nuptials which are about to be celebrated." 
 
 "Who is the fortunate man?" inquired 
 Bernard. 
 
 " The Khan of Lalpura, the leading Moh- 
 mund chief."
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 
 
 room occupied by the English guest 
 JL was one of those apartments in an Eastern 
 dwelling known as a balakhana, or, upper 
 room. The windows, of sliding shutters, opened 
 the whole length of the chamber and com- 
 manded an extensive view of the valley below 
 and of the snow-clad mountains in the distance. 
 A winding staircase communicated with the 
 outer court in which was the chieftain's guest- 
 house, and a small door opened on to the roof 
 of the harem and led to the female apartments 
 of the household, the chamber being usually 
 tenanted by Abdullah himself, and only on 
 very special occasions devoted to the accommo- 
 dation of strangers. 
 
 It had an air of comfort and even luxury. 
 A Persian carpet covered the floor ; soft 
 cushions and pillows of every conceivable size,
 
 134 RUHAINAH. 
 
 shape, and color were arranged as lounges on 
 every sid ; and upon a handsomely gilded 
 couch were thrown quilts of the richest Bukha- 
 rah silks. The walls of the chamber were covered 
 with gaudy French pictures representing nearly 
 all the crowned heads of Europe, past and 
 present, while the prominence given to a 
 cheap painting of Napoleon, standing on the 
 barren rocks of St. Helena, seemed to indicate 
 that the military renown of the exiled Corsican 
 had even excited the admiration of the old Af- 
 ghan warrior who now held the fort of Abukilla. 
 Curious recesses painted in fantastic colors were 
 filled with glasses, cups, and tea-pots, of every 
 design and shape ; and on the cornices above 
 had been skilfully arranged alternate rows of 
 oranges, apples, and yellow daffodils. It was 
 evident that some report of Major Bernard's 
 linguistic and literary fame had preceded him, 
 for upon a small table in the corner were piles 
 of books in Persian, Pushto and Arabic, includ- 
 ing a copy of Carey's translation of the Pen- 
 tateuch. 
 
 After a night of heavy slumber Bernard was 
 awakened soon after sunrise by the appearance
 
 LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 135 
 
 of Alak holding up a pair of copious pijamahs, 
 as Akbar the slave stood behind with an ewer 
 of water, a towel, and a comb for the English- 
 man's morning toilet. 
 
 " My father has sent you these," said 
 Alak, opening out a bundle of clothes, " for 
 it will be some time before we can recover your 
 baggage from those demons of Khyberees." 
 
 " How elegantly this choga is embroidered," 
 said Bernard as he examined a white robe of 
 the most costly needle-work. 
 
 " The house " by which Alak meant some 
 one of the ladies of the harem " is very clever 
 at this kind of work. I am surprised the old 
 man sent it, for it is his favorite robe. The one 
 he wears on feast days and weddings." 
 
 " You had better change it for another," Alak 
 continued, addressing Akbar. 
 
 " The master specially selected it," replied 
 the slave. 
 
 " The generosity of your benevolent father 
 flows even as the waters of Al-Kausar" said 
 Bernard as the slave poured water on his hands 
 and held the comb and towel. 
 
 As Alak held a small hand-mirror, and Ber-
 
 136 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 nard combed out his long flowing beard, he 
 exclaimed : 
 
 " By the Prophet ! you are a capital shot, sir ! " 
 
 " Well, I have the reputation of being a 
 very fair one when my hand is steady." 
 
 " You brought that Khyberee to the ground 
 like a mountain deer." 
 
 " I was sorry to shoot the fellow, but I was 
 determined to avenge the death of one of my 
 most faithful friends." 
 
 " Major Sahib ! I am not surprised that the 
 men of your regiment are devoted to you. You 
 can love and you can hate with all the passion 
 of an Afghan." 
 
 "Alak!" said Bernard, very solemnly and 
 looking the young man in the face, " friend Alak ! 
 the color of a man's skin, or the language he 
 speaks, or even the religion he professes never 
 influences me in my friendships. God has made 
 us all of one blood." 
 
 " Why that is very much what my old father 
 says. The Rustum of Herat is a very remark- 
 able man, sir." 
 
 " I am sure he must be, and I am most anx- 
 ious to secure his friendship."
 
 LO VE A T FIRST SIGHT. 137 
 
 " Major Sahib!" said Alakin a whisper, " you 
 know enough of our customs to be well aware 
 that now you have slain Hasan the Khyberee, 
 every member of his guild is in honor bound to 
 avenge his death." 
 
 " I feel safe in the hands of the Rustum of 
 Herat," replied Bernard looking keenly at Alak 
 as he left the room. 
 
 Major Bernard fully realized the true import 
 of the young Afghan's words, knowing, as he 
 did, that Alak was a member of the notorious 
 band. But it seemed unlikely that the young 
 man would attempt anything as long as Bernard 
 was under his father's roof. 
 
 Reclining on his couch, and thinking of little 
 else than the perilous position he was placed 
 in, Bernard's eyes rested on a crevice in the lit- 
 tle wooden door which communicated with the 
 female apartments of the harem. Partly from 
 curiosity, as well as to ascertain if he were 
 being watched, Bernard sprang from his cot and 
 peeped through the aperture, when to his 
 amazement he found he had a full view of the 
 central court of the harem! 
 
 Knowing well the jealousy with which East-
 
 138 RUHAINAH. 
 
 ern races regard all communications with their 
 seraglios, Major Bernard's first impulse was to 
 call the chieftain's son, and to direct his atten- 
 tion to the broken door, but a moment's reflect- 
 ion convinced him that such a step would ex- 
 cite the suspicions of so undisciplined a charac- 
 ter as Alak. 
 
 Bernard lost no time in cutting a splinter 
 from one of the shutters. But, as he was endeav- 
 oring to fix it to the door, his attention was 
 arrested by a fairy-like scene in the court-yard 
 below. There, standing on the marble parapet 
 of the well in the centre of the court-yard was 
 the nymph-like form of a most beautiful young 
 girl draped in a loose white kurta. Her rich 
 deep auburn tresses fell gracefully on her ex- 
 quisitely formed shoulders, and her eyes 
 sparkled, as with the freshness of the morning 
 dew, as she playfully raised her pretty little 
 hand in stern rebuke to the mischievous little 
 olive-skinned slave girl who tenderly wiped her 
 feet. The perfect symmetry of her delicately 
 moulded figure was clearly shown as she sprang 
 forward to catch the roguish little bondmaid, 
 who ran and hid herself behind the charpoy on
 
 LOVE AT FIRS T SIGHT. 1 39 
 
 which were scattered the various articles of the 
 fair maiden's wardrobe. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " exclaimed Bernard to 
 himself, " what a captivating creature ! " 
 
 He would fain have lingered on the forbidden 
 scene, but the sound of footsteps on the outer 
 staircase warned him to desist. Quickly cov- 
 ering the treacherous crevice in the forbidden 
 door, he returned to his couch with an enslaved 
 heart. He had beheld, and he had loved (even 
 at first sight) the fair girl who was known only 
 to the outside world as the " Maid of Herat": 
 Ruhainah, the daughter of Abdullah. 
 
 In a few moments Abdullah entered the 
 chamber, resting on his staff and somewhat out 
 of breath from the steep ascent of the winding 
 staircase. 
 
 " May you ever come ! My house is yours ! 
 We are all your honor's slaves ! " were the 
 Afghan salutations with which the benevolent 
 old chieftain welcomed his English guest. 
 
 " You must be tired after your exciting ride 
 of yesterday, but you seem to have done your, 
 work in true Afghan fashion," he said. 
 
 " I am certainly an Afghan in this, that I
 
 140 RUHAINAH. 
 
 know how to speedily avenge the foul assassina- 
 tion of my friends," said Bernard. 
 
 " True, true, Major Sahib ! but it all increases 
 my responsibility. Hasan's friends will surely 
 seek your life." 
 
 " I feel perfectly safe in your hospitable 
 fort." 
 
 " True, true," said the old man thoughtfully, 
 " but I do not always feel safe even in my own 
 dwelling. These are the last days, sir, when 
 there is decay of faith among men, and you 
 cannot now even trust the word of a Moslem. 
 Why, sir," he added in a suppressed tone of 
 voice, " these are days when you cannot trust 
 even your own children. 
 
 "You like that choga ? " the old man con- 
 tinued, glad, as it appeared, to change the sub- 
 ject, " you like the beautiful needle-work in that 
 robe ? " 
 
 " It is indeed exquisite," replied Bernard, as 
 he examined his coat more carefully. " Did 
 you buy it in Persia? " 
 
 " No," replied the old chieftain with a smile. 
 " It was done by my by the house" An ex- 
 pression which although framed in the inani-
 
 LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 141 
 
 mate neuter was understood by Bernard to 
 refer to some female member of the harem. 
 
 After a long conversation with Major Ber- 
 nard regarding the special object of his mission, 
 Abdullah left his English guest in the upper 
 chamber alone. 
 
 " I am getting an old man, sir, but my son 
 Alak will attend to your commands. My house 
 is yours. May God protect you ! " said the hos- 
 pitable host as he left his guest to descend the 
 stairs. 
 
 Looking around him Bernard observed that 
 the splinter of wood which he had placed in 
 the door had fallen from its place and that a 
 pair of bright eyes evidently those of a girl- 
 were peeping through the aperture. Could 
 they be the eyes of the fair maiden who had so 
 captivated him ? Impossible ! No Afghan girl 
 of the reputed modesty of the Maid of Herat 
 would be guilty of such conduct. 
 
 It was Gulandamah the slave girl. 
 
 " Open the door ! open the door ! " said the 
 voice in a whisper. 
 
 " Impossible," said Bernard, feeling that 
 although he had escaped the designs of Hasan
 
 142 RUHAINAH. 
 
 the Khyberee he might not be so successful in 
 resisting the intrigues of a pretty slave girl. 
 
 " If you care for your life, you will let me in," 
 whispered Gulandamah. 
 
 " Where is the chief ? " 
 
 " He is in the mosque." 
 
 " Where is Alak?" 
 
 " He has gone to the fields." 
 
 "Are you quite alone?" 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 Bernard gently opened the door and admit- 
 ted Gulandamah. 
 
 " Tell me as quickly as you can all you wish 
 to say and be as brief as possible," he said. " If 
 you are found in my room I shall be killed." 
 
 " You will be killed any way," said the girl. 
 
 " What do you mean ? " 
 
 " Alak, last night, told his sister Ruhainah 
 that, as you had slain Hasan the chief of his 
 guild, he must take your life ; and, as it is her 
 turn to cook the food for the guests this morn- 
 ing, he gave her a packet of poison to put in 
 your food. So my mistress has sent me to 
 warn you of your danger." 
 
 Bernard, who from his long contact with
 
 LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT. 1 43 
 
 Oriental life had become almost a fatalist, 
 thought to himself, " How strange that I should 
 owe my life to that beautiful creature who so 
 captivated my heart only a short time ago it 
 must be my kismet" 
 
 " Stay, my little maid ! I will give you some- 
 thing for your fair mistress," and taking a slip 
 of paper he wrote the Pushto couplet : 
 
 " Prudence sets great sttfre by name and fame, 
 Love casteth both away." 
 
 " Now please give this letter to the Fair Maid 
 of Herat and tell her how truly grateful her 
 English guest is for her kind protection," said 
 Bernard, as he placed in the little slave-girl's 
 hand the piece of paper and a few silver rupees. 
 Gulandamah gently closed the door, and Bern- 
 ard stealthily watched her through the crevice 
 as she descended into the court-yard and 
 approached her mistress. The beautiful Ruh- 
 ainah blushed as she read Bernard's lines, and, 
 as Gulandamah looked in the direction of the 
 door, she sweetly smiled. . * - 
 
 " That smile, how familiar it seems to me, and 
 how sweet ! "
 
 144 RUHAINAH. 
 
 As some time elapsed before the serving of 
 his morning meal Bernard reclined on his couch 
 and abandoned himself to dreamy and romantic 
 contemplation. 
 
 " Only two days have passed since I emerged 
 from the civilized life of a military cantonment, 
 and here I am in the regions of semi-savagery, 
 and entirely at the mercy of these brutes of 
 Afghans ! Poor old Dilavvar is no more ! The 
 very brigand, whose lawless acts it is my special 
 mission to suppress, has been slain by my own 
 hand ! And here I am on the very eve of being 
 poisoned ! yes, poisoned ! and that just after I 
 seem to have had a glimpse of the Prophet's 
 own paradise ! " and Bernard laughed at his 
 own joke. 
 
 Yes, he could not, for the very life of him, get 
 that young girl's face out of his mind. It was 
 not the first pretty face he had seen by many a 
 thousand, but never in the whole course of his 
 life had he beheld a face like that. He was in 
 love ! There was not the slightest doubt about 
 it. In love witJi an Afghan girl ! The whole 
 thing was just like a page of the Arabian 
 Nights, or of some other strange Eastern
 
 LOVE AT FIRS T SIGHT. 145 
 
 romance. What would the end of the chapter 
 be ? Would he die like a poisoned cur, or would 
 he slay Alak and run off with the beautiful 
 sister? What will be the end of it all ? 
 
 Such were the thoughts passing through Ber- 
 nard's mind when Alak entered the room with 
 an attendant carrying several dishes of food, on 
 a handsome tray. 
 
 Spreading a large colored cloth on the floor, 
 Alak, placing the dishes upon it, invited the 
 major to partake heartily of his morning meal. 
 
 " You must be hungry, sir, after your exer- 
 tions of yesterday. The house has very care- 
 fully prepared these dishes and I hope they will 
 suit your honor's palate." 
 
 " Will you not join me ? It is surely con- 
 trary to your custom for a guest to eat 
 alone ? " 
 
 " It is one of my fast days," said Alak, and 
 he left the room. 
 
 " It is very evident that either you or I must 
 die, friend Alak," thought Bernard, as he cast 
 a glance at his revolver. 
 
 " Eat on, you are safe ! " exclaimed a female 
 voice from the inner door.
 
 146 RUHAINAH. 
 
 "Were these delightful dishes of plau, and 
 curry and fleer eenee, and heaven kpows what, all 
 prepared by the sweet little fingers of your fair 
 mistress?" 
 
 " And by my sweet little fingers too," said 
 Gulandamah slyly. 
 
 " Gulandamah ! my good little maid, you 
 must go. But stay ! Tell me, was your young 
 mistress very angry when she read my Pushto 
 verse ? " 
 
 " Not very."
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 SHAIDY'S WEDDING. 
 
 A MID the deafening beatings of drums, the 
 \ discordant pipings of pipes, and the inter- 
 mittent firings of muskets in every street, lane, 
 and alley of the village, the gloomy heart of 
 the once bright little Shaidy thrilled and 
 throbbed with the conflicting elements of wonder 
 and despair, as she gazed pensively on the 
 playful waters of the marble fountain as they 
 rippled and glistened in the sunny morn. 
 
 Clad in rich and luxurious pijamahs of bright 
 crimson satin, covered to the knees with a 
 graceful kurta of green and gold, her whole 
 figure veiled with white spangled muslin wrought 
 in skilful needle-work by her sister's loving hand, 
 Shaidy reclined her dark dimpled cheek on 
 Ruhainah's fair arm, as her large lustrous eyes 
 (the truest type of Eastern beauty), seemed to 
 speak more eloquently than mortal tongue that
 
 148 RUHAINAH. 
 
 all the sounds of merriment and joy on this 
 her nuptial day were but as the wails of lamen- 
 tation for a shrouded spirit. The joyous strains 
 of the village minstrels penetrated even the 
 thick walls of the secluded harem, but the flow 
 of revelry and the round of merriment did but 
 deepen the heavy gloom which overshadowed 
 the soul of that sweet little Shaidy who for 
 sixteen short years had been the joy, the pet, 
 and the toy of the household of the Rustum of 
 Herat. 
 
 " Shaidy, my life ! " said her mother, " you 
 must cheer up and not manifest such grief on this 
 your wedding day." 
 
 " Mother dear! I am reconciled to my fate. 
 But it is indeed hard to leave you all. To 
 leave you, my loving mother. To leave Ruhai- 
 
 nah, my own sweet sister, to leave ! " But 
 
 she dare not utter the beloved name, for none 
 knew of her passion for Yusuf save her sister and 
 the faithful little slave. 
 
 " Look here ! " exclaimed the Sadozie wife of 
 royal lineage. " Look here ! these heavy bangles 
 of the purest gold have been sent as a wedding 
 present by none other than the Ameer of
 
 SffAIDY'S WEDDING. 149 
 
 Cabul ! " and the noble lady stooped and bound 
 them on the wrists and ankles of the young 
 bride. 
 
 " These beautiful earrings," said Alak's 
 mother, " are my present, my child ! The 
 Almighty never gave me a daughter, but I have 
 ever loved you and Ruhainah with a mother's 
 love," and she tenderly placed them in Shaidy's 
 ears. 
 
 " My offering," said the young Sheenwaree 
 wife, " is this nose ring. Nand Ram, the 
 Hindu, procured it from Ajmeer; it is of rare 
 workmanship, I am told." 
 
 " The old heathen stole it, I verily believe ! " 
 whispered Gulandamah to Ruhainah. 
 
 " Shaidy, my own darling sister ! my life ! my 
 rose ! accept of my poor little offering, it is 
 only a silver ring, for the learned say the 
 Prophet never wore gold, but on its ruby signet is 
 inscribed AR RAKEEB, 'the Watcher.' And 
 may God watch between thee and me." And 
 Ruhainah kissed her sister's hand as she placed 
 on her finger the mystic ring. 
 
 Gulandamah stood by in amazement as she 
 beheld the sparkling jewels (for there were
 
 150 RUHAINAH. 
 
 many other rich gifts, including a brilliant tiara 
 from the bridegroom's mother), as they glistened 
 on the rich luxuriant dress of the veiled figure 
 of her lovely young mistress ; and clapping her 
 hands and dancing in the wildest excitement 
 she exclaimed : " O you houri of paradise ! you 
 royal princess ! you are just like the beautiful 
 bride of Shahriyaar ! You are even as a bright 
 star shot straight from the spangled heavens ! 
 O my sweet Sultana ! you will be as happy 
 as the favorite wife of some mighty Caliph. By 
 the Prophet ! won't those other wives and 
 slave girls be jealous of Shaidy the beautiful 
 daughter of the Rustum of Herat? " 
 
 " Gulandamah, do not be silly and talk 
 nonsense ! " said Ruhainah with some au- 
 thority. 
 
 " O my good mistress ! I am but a slave ! " 
 and Gulandamah knelt humbly and cast her 
 turban at Ruhainah's feet. " Why even Shah- 
 baz is paid for playing the fool." 
 
 " True, but he is the village jester, and you 
 are a serving maid." 
 
 Gulandamah placed her hand on her lips 
 and silently wondered if Ruhainah was
 
 SHA fDY'S WEDDING. 1 5 1 
 
 jealous of her sister's surpassing beauty. 
 For her part, she had never been able to under- 
 stand why the fair Ruhainah with her auburn 
 tresses and her dreamy eyes was considered so 
 much more beautiful than her younger sister 
 with her glossy black ringlets and her full dark 
 lustrous eyes. 
 
 " Gulandamah ! " said Shaidy coaxingly, " Ruh- 
 ainah is not angry with you ; she loves you just 
 as much as I do, but, you know, her heart is 
 sad to-day. Now that we three are alone, I 
 want you to sew this little slip of paper you 
 brought this morning, into a piece of silk, for 
 I shall wear it as an amulet." 
 
 " May I read it ? " enquired Ruhainah. 
 
 " Yes. They are Yusuf s own lines." 
 
 And she read : 
 
 In vain I seek excitement's glare, 
 Commune with friends or idly rove ; 
 My breast still heaves with deep despair, 
 O'erwrought by hopeless fatal love. 
 
 " Poor Yusuf ! " added Ruhainah as she folded 
 the slip of paper and gave it to the slave girl, 
 who quickly sewed it in a piece of blue silk,
 
 152 RUHAINAH. 
 
 and suspended it on her mistress's neck. " Poor 
 Yusuf ! " 
 
 "Thank you, Gulandamah," said Shaidy. 
 " And now you must tell Yusuf that it is here." 
 And she clasped the precious talisman to her 
 heart. 
 
 While the interior of the chieftain's harem 
 was presenting a somewhat gloomy spectacle, 
 the outer court was the scene of the wildest 
 revelry and excitement. Everything had 
 been done that possibly could be done to 
 impress the English guest with the importance 
 of Abdullah's position as a leading Afghan 
 chieftain. The entrance to the fort was lined 
 with mounted retainers, some of whom were 
 clad in ancient chain-armor. The interior of 
 the court was crowded with minstrels and danc- 
 ing girls. Busy attendants rushed to and fro 
 serving costly sherbets, and handing round the 
 calumet of peace. Numerous guests from all 
 parts of the Afghan world came with hearty 
 congratulations, as the venerable chieftain wel- 
 comed them with the salutations of peace. 
 
 Long rows of cots were arranged in a semi- 
 circle, in the centre of which the Rustum of
 
 SffAIDY'S WEDDING. 153 
 
 Herat reclined resting on a huge white pillow, 
 over which had been thrown a beautiful Cash- 
 mere quilt. Major Bernard sat on his right and 
 Mullah Ahmad the priest on his left, thus form- 
 ing a strikingly picturesque group in the centre 
 of a throng of turbaned guests representing 
 the various tribes and families of Central Asia. 
 So great was the reputation of the chief of 
 Abukilla, that friends had hastened to congrat- 
 ulate him on his alliance with the leading Moh- 
 mund chief, even from the remotest regions of 
 Bushire, Bukharah, and Nepal. The old man's 
 face radiated with delight as he now realized 
 the wide extent of his fame and popularity. 
 It was evident that the depressing and gloomy 
 atmosphere of the harem had not reached the 
 hospitable environments of the chieftain's guest- 
 house. Mullah Ahmad, the priest, sat in pious 
 abstraction counting his beads with indifference, 
 while his poor love-sick son was lonely seated 
 on the minaret of the mosque in the agony of 
 despair. 
 
 The distant sounds of the bridegroom's pro- 
 cession welled up the side of the hill from the 
 valley beneath, and soon the hoofs of the horses,
 
 154 RUHAINAH. 
 
 the clatter of swords, and the firing of muskets, 
 announced that the procession was at the 
 threshold of the fort. 
 
 " The bridegroom cometh ! go ye out to meet 
 him ! " said Abdullah as he buckled on his sword 
 and with a quick step led his friends to the gate- 
 way of the fort, to welcome his future-son-in- 
 law. 
 
 The Khan ofLalpura,whowasathickset little 
 man of stunted growth and with decidedly 
 pugged features, dismounted from his horse and 
 having exchanged salutations took his seat on 
 Abdullah's right ; Major Bernard having spec- 
 ially requested that he should not be intro- 
 duced to the Mohmund chief, but retire and be 
 allowed to view the ceremonies from the top of 
 the watch-tower. 
 
 " Let the marriage ceremonies begin," said 
 Abdullah, addressing Ahmad the priest. 
 
 An attorney was selected to wait on Shaidy 
 to obtain her consent. 
 
 The village barber, being best acquainted 
 with the interior of the harem, was deputed to 
 wait upon the bride. 
 
 " Silence gives consent " in Moslem law, and
 
 SHAIDY'S WEDDING. 155 
 
 therefore no difficulty was caused by Shaidy's 
 reticence. 
 
 " Why don't you say ' no ' ? " said Ruhainah. 
 "If I loved Yusuf as you do I would kill my- 
 self rather than marry another." 
 
 Shaidy hid her face and wept, and the vil- 
 lage barber returned, and stated in due form that 
 " Shaidy, the youngest daughter of Abdullah 
 the exalted chief of Abukilla, had consented to 
 marry Lateef the renowned chief of the Moh- 
 munds." 
 
 "The dowry must be settled ! " said the priest 
 with great solemnity. 
 
 " I will settle upon her five thousand tilahs 
 of pure gold, and a well, with one hundred 
 acres of good land ." 
 
 " Afreen ! Well done ! "exclaimed the numer- 
 ous spectators. " The chief has behaved right 
 generously regarding the family of the Rustum 
 of Herat." 
 
 " Let the service proceed ! " said Abdullah. 
 
 The priest then requested the bridegroom to 
 stand in front of him and to recite the neces- 
 sary prayers and confession of faith. 
 
 With a slight stammer, for the generous
 
 156 RUHAINAH. 
 
 chief was afflicted with an impediment in his 
 speech, the bridegroom recited as follows : 
 
 " I desire forgiveness from God ! 
 
 " There is no God but God, and Mohamed is 
 His Prophet ! 
 
 " I believe in God, in the angels, in the books, 
 in the Prophets, in the day of judgment, and in 
 the absolute decrees of the Almighty ! " 
 
 The village barber, as Shaidy's agent, then 
 seized the fat little hand of the stunted Moh- 
 mund chief and declared : 
 
 " In the presence of two witnesses and in 
 consideration of the dowry already fixed, Shaidy 
 the daughter of Abdullah consents to marry 
 you. Do you consent? " 
 
 " With all my heart, I consent ! I consent ! I 
 consent ! " replied the bridegroom. 
 
 Then raising his hands with great solemnity 
 the priest said : 
 
 " O Great God ! grant that mutual love may 
 reign between these two persons, even as it did 
 exist between Adam and Eve, Abraham and 
 Sarah, Joseph and Zulaikah, Moses and Zipo- 
 rah, Mohamed and Ayesha, Aly and Fatimah, 
 Ameen."
 
 SHAIDY'S WEDDING, 157 
 
 " Ameen ! " said Abdullah with great fervency. 
 
 " Ameen ! " reiterated the bridegroom. 
 
 "Ameen !" exclaimed the whole company. 
 
 A slight titter was heard in the assembly as 
 Shahbaz the jester echoed "Ameen" from the 
 remotest corner of the court. 
 
 The wedding was over, and by this act Ab- 
 dullah the Rustum of Herat had secured the-^ 
 friendship of the leading chieftain of the dis- 
 trict. 
 
 There was a general shaking of hands and 
 profuse congratulations on all sides, and the 
 lucky little chief received an extra blessing as 
 he placed in the priest's hand a liberal benefac- 
 tion. 
 
 The leading minstrel marshalled his force of 
 musicians and dancing girls as the palanquin 
 was brought into the harem to bear away the 
 sorrowful little bride. 
 
 " May God protect you, my child," said her 
 mother. 
 
 " The Prophet's blessing rest upon you," said 
 her aged father. 
 
 " God help you," exclaimed Ruhainah. 
 
 And Shaidy, taking one lingering look at the
 
 158 RUHAINAH. 
 
 distant minaret, stepped into the covered litter 
 and was borne away on the shoulders of four of 
 her father's slaves. 
 
 Major Bernard viewed the procession from 
 the turret of the fort, but with very different 
 feelings from those of the love-sick Yusuf who 
 stood on the lofty minaret of his father's mosque. 
 .It was truly a picturesque sight as the mar- 
 riage procession wended its way down the 
 winding pathway which led from the village to 
 the plains below. The wild warlike steps of 
 the numerous retainers ; the sweet strains of the 
 lute ; the fantastic dance of the Nautch girls ; 
 the beatings of drums; the clashing of cymbals ; 
 the bridegroom mounted on his prancing 
 white steed, whose long drooping tail had been 
 dyed red with henna, and the closed litter 
 covered with gorgeous trappings, all combined 
 to make it both an interesting and a novel 
 spectacle to the foreign guest. 
 
 "This is not the only country in the world 
 where girls are bought and sold, and there are 
 ill-sorted matches in other countries than 
 this," said Bernard to himself as he descended 
 from the turret.
 
 SffAIDY'S WEDDING. 159 
 
 Major Bernard retired to his " upper chamber," 
 for he was glad to escape an introduction to 
 the crowd of visitors. But he had not been long 
 in his solitary chamber before he saw the eyes 
 of the irrepressible little slave girl peeping 
 through the crevice. 
 
 "This is a very dangerous game in a country 
 like this," thought Bernard to himself. But the 
 recollection of the captivating scene still 
 lingered, and while discretion dictated that he 
 should send Gulandamah away, love suggested 
 that he should call her in. And love, as it 
 generally does under such circumstances, gained 
 the day. 
 
 " Only for a few minutes," he said as he 
 opened the door noiselessly. " Only for a few 
 minutes." 
 
 " Of course," said Gulandamah, flushed with 
 the excitement of the day, and whose olive 
 skin radiated with a beauty by no means to be 
 despised. 
 
 "You must have had an exciting day, my 
 little maid ? " 
 
 " Very. I have not had a single moment's 
 rest until now."
 
 160 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Did your mistress send you ? " 
 
 " No, I came to please myself." 
 
 " Now, tell me somethingabout your mistress," 
 Bernard said as he placed in her hand a couple 
 of rupees. " Tell me the young lady's name." 
 
 " Ruhainah." 
 
 " But she is always spoken of as the ' Maid 
 of Herat.' Why is this ? " 
 
 " Because they all come from Herat, and be- 
 cause the old chief is so fond of her that he 
 won't give her in marriage to any one." 
 
 " She is very fair." 
 
 " Have you seen her? " 
 
 " Of course I have." 
 
 " Oh fie, Major Sahib ! " said the little damsel 
 raising her finger; " how dare you look at us ? 
 The chieftain will kill you." 
 
 Bernard felt he had made a grave mistake 
 in letting out the secret. 
 
 " You need not fear, Sahib ! I shall never 
 tell. My mistress likes you too much, and I 
 like you too much ever to betray you." 
 
 " Does your mistress like me ? She has 
 never seen me." 
 
 " But she liked your verses. O Major Sahib !
 
 SffAIDY'S WEDDING. 161 
 
 I do so wish I could write. I should have 
 lots of lovers if I could only write." 
 
 " It is a fortunate thing, my little damsel, 
 that your education has been neglected, for you 
 would certainly get into trouble. But tell me, 
 who was Ruhainah's mother? She is very fair." 
 
 " Her mother was a Cashmeree, and the chief 
 loved her more than all his other wives, and 
 so when Ruhainah's mother died, he loved her 
 daughter more than anybody else in the whole 
 world ; and I tell you, Major Sahib, if you fall in 
 love with my mistress, the chief will kill you," 
 and the slave girl laughinglydrewherhand across 
 her throat to give emphasis to her warning. 
 
 " It is not likely I shall fall in love with her." 
 
 " Yes, you will, if you go on peeping through 
 that crevice day after day." 
 
 " Is she so beautiful?" 
 
 " Beautiful ! Why every prince, sardar, and 
 chief in the whole country wants to marry her ; 
 and mark my word," she said, raising her hand, 
 " one of the Cabul princes will run away with 
 her some day." 
 
 " Is she clever ? " 
 
 " Clever ! Why there is not a single thing she
 
 162 RUHAINAH. 
 
 cannot do. Do you admire that beautiful choga 
 you have on? Ruhainah worked it. Did 
 you enjoy your dinner last evening ? Ruhainah 
 cooked it. Do you ever hear beautiful music ? 
 It is Ruhainah's rebab. Have you ever heard a 
 sweet voice? It is Ruhainah's voice as she 
 soothes her father to sleep. Do you see this 
 pretty cap of mine ? Ruhainah embroidered it." 
 
 " Is the young lady who was married to-day 
 as beautiful as her sister? " 
 
 " Far more beautiful, only her father does 
 not think so. But listen, I hear the chieftain's 
 footsteps, I must run away," and the bright 
 little gad-about had scarcely closed the door 
 when Abdullah entered. 
 
 " I am much fatigued after the excitement 
 of the day, sir," the old man said, " but I hope 
 all your wants are attended to. I must await the 
 Ameer's instructions ; till then remember my 
 house is yours." 
 
 " To reside even for a day under the hospit- 
 able roof of the Rustum of Herat is to get a 
 glimpse of the pleasures of paradise," and Major 
 Bernard felt he was in truth not merely utter- 
 ing an empty compliment.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE POISONED DIgH. 
 
 "fT^ELL me, Gulandamah, is he very hand- 
 
 \_ some ? " said Ruhainah, as she read 
 once more the lines Bernard had sent her. 
 
 "Well! he is certainly better looking than 
 the chief of Lalpura." 
 
 " He must be brave ! Even Alak says he is. 
 He must love our race to risk his life as he did 
 for his Afghan friend ! " 
 
 " He evidently loves some of your race ! " 
 said Gulandamah, slyly. 
 
 "And he must be clever?" 
 
 " He speaks your language like an Afghan." 
 
 " Oh, Gulandamah ! do tell me more about 
 him. You have simply told me nothing." 
 
 " My sweet lady ! what can I tell you ?" 
 
 "Tell me something." 
 
 " Well, then, to begin," and the little slave 
 held up her five fingers, and began to
 
 164 RUHAINAH. 
 
 count up the foreigner's graces. First / He 
 is tall, exactly a hand's breadth taller than your 
 noble father. Second! He has a long, flowing 
 brown beard, exactly three shades darker than 
 your own beautiful tresses. Third / His nose 
 is turned in precisely the opposite direction to 
 that of Shahbaz the Jester ! Shahbaz's nose is 
 always looking at the heavens, but the for- 
 eigner's is a fine, handsome nose, just like 
 your father's. Fourth ! He has the most 
 beautiful pearly teeth set in the prettiest ruby 
 mouth I have ever seen. Fifth ! He has the 
 softest and the most winning voice I have ever 
 listened to. I had no idea that your poor little 
 slave's name was so sweet and pretty until I 
 heard the foreigner say Gul-an-da-a-mah ! " 
 And she imitated Bernard's voice. 
 
 "Go on, Gulandamah, you have still five 
 fingers left on the other hand ! " said Ruhainah, 
 laughing at the little mimic. 
 
 " Sixth ! He wears his mustache uncut, just 
 like an infidel." 
 
 " Oh ! Horrid ! " exclaimed Ruhainah. 
 
 "Yes, it completely covers his lips. He 
 couldn't give one a kiss if he wanted ! "
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 165 
 
 "But go on, Gulandamah! You have still 
 four fingers left." 
 
 " Well, my lovely mistress. Seventh ! His skin 
 is as fair as yours, and his cheeks are almost as 
 rosy. Eighth! When he looks at one, his eyes 
 seem to go right straight to one's very heart." 
 And the little slave pointed to the region in 
 which she thought the palpitating member 
 resided. 
 
 " How interesting ! " exclaimed Ruhainah. 
 " Butfl/ease don't stop." 
 
 " Ninth ! When he laughs he shows his back 
 teeth just as the Prophet did." 
 
 " Who told you the Prophet showed his back 
 teeth ? " 
 
 " Why, Yusuf did. He tells me I always 
 laugh like the Prophet." 
 
 (" Upon whom be peace," devoutly added 
 Ruhainah.) 
 
 " But you have ten fingers ! Now, tenth ! " said 
 Ruhainah, impatiently. 
 
 " Oh, dear me, what can I say ? Tenth ! 
 Tenth ! Well, tenth ! Oh, my angelic mistress ! 
 he does look so very, very handsome in that 
 beautiful choga which you worked for your
 
 1 66 RUHAINAH. 
 
 father for the last great festival. I cannot tell 
 you anything more!" 
 
 And the little slave came and sat at Ruhai- 
 nah's feet, as her mistress kissed her. 
 
 Gulandamah's amusing description of the 
 foreigner had intensely interested Ruhainah, 
 who would gladly have encouraged the girl to 
 proceed, but the aged chieftain entered and 
 seated himself beside his daughter, and lov- 
 ingly took her hand, and Gulandamah left. 
 
 " Father ! dear father ! how feverish you are, 
 and how anxious you look ! " 
 
 " Yes, I am anxious, and there is much cause 
 for it, my child ! " 
 
 " Why-? " 
 
 " The Englishman, who is my guest, shot the 
 renowned brigand Hasan." 
 
 " Yes, I know it. It was indeed brave and 
 noble of him to avenge the death of his friend, 
 especially when that friend was of an alien race. " 
 
 "True! True! My child! But blood for 
 blood ! A life for a life ! Your brother is one of 
 Hasan's fraternity. Do you understand ? " 
 
 "Yes, father, I do. You mean that Alak is 
 sworn to take the foreigner's life ? "
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 167 
 
 "Verily, thou hast spoken the truth, my 
 daughter! " said the old man solemnly. 
 
 "I know it, father! Already Alak has tried 
 to make me poison the Englishman's food." 
 
 " Allah ! Good God ! Thou alone canst 
 restrain the evil passions of men ! " said her 
 father. 
 
 "But I refused to obey him. I saidj 'Alak, 
 if you must take the infidel's life, do it as a 
 warrior, and not as a base assassin.' ' 
 
 " Ruhainah, my brave girl, thou didst speak 
 nobly. As long as I hold this fort it shall not 
 be the scene of foul assassination." 
 
 " Oh, take us all back to Herat ! " exclaimed 
 Ruhainah. " There is nothing but wrong and 
 robbery, treason and murder in this horrid 
 place." 
 
 " Have patience, my child. They are but 
 the signs of the last days. Jesus will come 
 and convert the whole world to Islam, and then 
 all wrong shall cease. But till then, we must 
 be resigned to our fate. But read me a little 
 of Rahman, my favorite poet, to divert my 
 mind. Give me my old favorite, ' The Three 
 are Just the Same,' " he said.
 
 1 68 RUHA1NAH. 
 
 Ruhainah ran and brought a little stool, and 
 seating herself beside the old man, as he re- 
 clined on his cot, read a few verses from the 
 national poet of the Afghans, with a soft, 
 sweet cadence on the concluding words of each 
 couplet : 
 
 " The face of one's beloved, the sun, the moon, all 
 
 three are just the same ; 
 Her figure, the cypress, and the fir-tree, all three 
 
 are just the same. 
 
 No need have I for honey, nor for sugared sweets, 
 Honey, sugar, and my mistress 1 lips, all three are 
 just the same. 
 
 If I on my couch recline, of my true love bereft, 
 Lo ! fire, the bare earth, iny couch, all three are 
 just the same. 
 
 May God ne'er cause my exile from His love to 
 
 know, 
 Tyranny, murder, and this exile, all three are just 
 
 the same. 
 
 The instant that a mortal from this world departs, 
 Black earth, white silver, gold, all three are just 
 the same.
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 169 
 
 When the devotee, in very truth, to devotion doth 
 
 resort, 
 A prince, a king, and he, all three are just the 
 
 same. 
 
 No one should wanderings make into a foreign 
 
 land, 
 For there blind, deaf, and one who sees, all three 
 
 are just the same. 
 
 In the stores and in the marts of jewellers who are 
 
 blind, 
 Glass beads, rubies, pearls, all three are just the 
 
 same. 
 
 Because of unwise rulers, who despotic tyrants are, 
 Hades, hell-fire, and Peshawur, all three are just 
 the same." 
 
 " Thank you, my child. How beautifully 
 you read ; your voice is even more melodious 
 than the priest's when he recites the night 
 prayer." 
 
 " Oh ! father, it is simply because you love 
 me that you think my voice so sweet," and she 
 placed her little hand upon his feverish fore- 
 head.
 
 170 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Remember, Ruhainah, that last verse re- 
 specting Peshawur was written by our poet 
 when the whole valley groaned under the tyr- 
 anny of Moghal rule. These English (and as 
 he spoke in suppressed tones, he looked in 
 the direction of the upper chamber), these 
 English do try to be just." 
 
 "Do they?" And the young maiden's 
 thoughts wandered also in the direction of the 
 upper chamber. 
 
 " I like this officer who has been sent to us ; 
 he is evidently a sincere and a truly brave man." 
 
 " I am glad you like him, father." 
 
 " Yes, I do ; and although you are not inter- 
 ested in his mission " (Ruhainah thought she 
 was), " I must tell you that it will all tend to es- 
 tablish my position as one of the leading 
 counsellors of the Ameer." 
 
 " Is he an old man ? " inquired Ruhainah, 
 with affected indifference. 
 
 "Certainly not ; he is just in the very prime 
 of life." 
 
 " Father, do not leave me," she pleaded, as 
 her father rose from his couch, " I do so want 
 to talk with you."
 
 THE POISONED DISH. \1\ 
 
 " My presence is required in the guest- 
 house," he said, and the chieftain bound his 
 large white turban on his head, and taking his 
 staff, returned to the outer court, to join his 
 numerous guests. 
 
 Ruhainah and several of the slave girls soon 
 began to make preparations for the evening 
 meal of the principal guests, the other women of 
 the household preparing the meal for those 
 lady guests who had attended Shaidy's wed- 
 ding. Very special attention was devoted by 
 Ruhainah to the preparation of dishes for the 
 rude foreigner who had dared to send love 
 verses to an Afghan maiden he had never seen. 
 
 " Gulandamah ! you must never go to the 
 foreigner's room again. Such forwardness ill 
 becomes even a serving-maid. Does he like his 
 curry with red pepper?" 
 
 " How can I tell ? " replied Gulandamah, 
 sulkily. 
 
 " Did he enjoy \fatpeereenee I made yester- 
 day? " 
 
 " Ask Alak." 
 
 " You must not be sulky, Gulandamah." 
 
 " Oh, my lady, I can never please you."
 
 172 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 "Yes, my good girl, you always please me." 
 
 "Even when I go to see the foreigner?" 
 asked Gulandamah. 
 
 " But you must be very careful, or you will 
 be caught." 
 
 " Oh ! my good mistress, if you had ever 
 gazed on those eyes or listened to the soft, 
 winning tones of that voice, you would feel as 
 I do." 
 
 As the various dishes were arranged, Alak 
 entered and asked for those specially prepared 
 for the English guest ; which his sister placed 
 before him. 
 
 " How nicely you have cooked them," he 
 said. " I will take them to the foreigner 
 myself." 
 
 Ruhainah, suspecting treachery, watched her 
 brother as he carried the dishes away. Alak 
 paused at the door-way leading to the outer 
 court and placing the tray on the ground he 
 secretly dropped into the dish of plau the con- 
 tents of a small packet. 
 
 Ruhainah's watchful eye witnessed the deed ; 
 but before she could reason with her brother, 
 he had passed beyond the limits of the harem.
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 1 73 
 
 What could she do ? In a few minutes the poi- 
 soned dish would be in the hands of the stranger 
 in whom she had become so deeply interested. 
 
 " Gulandamah ! Gulandamah ! " 
 
 But there was no response. The little slave 
 girl was far away in the mosque drawing water 
 at the well, and consoling poor Yusuf. 
 
 She had not a being to help her. She could 
 not expect sympathy from the other women of 
 the harem, for only Gulandamah knew her pe- 
 culiar interest in the man whose life was now 
 in peril. To delay was foul murder, for in a few 
 more seconds he would eat of the poisoned dish 
 and his blood would be on her own head. Nay, 
 more, the world would say the Englishman had 
 been poisoned by the hand of Ruhainah ! Mad- 
 dened by such a thought she sprang toward 
 the staircase and was soon standing at the door 
 to Bernard's chamber. Evening had set in, and 
 the bright light within enabled her to see 
 Bernard seated on the carpet with the poisoned 
 dish before him. 
 
 She paused. " Thank God ! " she said to her- 
 self, " he has not touched it. What a hand- 
 some face ! God help you ! "
 
 174 RUHAINAH, 
 
 Bernard rose and unbuckling his sword and 
 pistol placed them on his cot. 
 
 " God be praised ! He will not eat ! He sus- 
 pects it is poisoned ! " she thought. Fain 
 would she open the door. But she was unveiled. 
 In the hurry of her flight she had not even cov- 
 ered her head. Only think of her position ! 
 Never had she been allowed to speak to any 
 man save to her aged father, and Alak, and 
 Akbar the slave and the village barber ! 
 
 Again she looked, and as she gazed on the 
 handsome features of the foreigner the respon- 
 sive throbbing of her heart told her now (even 
 if she had not discovered it before), that she 
 really loved. 
 
 " How I should like to speak to him ! I am 
 sure he would be kind ! He would not injure 
 me, and I should then hear the voice which 
 has so charmed my slave ! " And yet she had 
 heard that English officers were very wicked ! 
 He might seize her and take her away ! And 
 what if Alak found her there ? Why he would 
 kill them both ! Such were her dreamy mus- 
 ings as she watched Bernard through the crevice 
 in the door. When to her horror she saw him
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 175 
 
 seat himself once more on the carpet, and, hav- 
 ing raised his hands in the act of invocation, 
 dip his fingers into the poisoned dish. 
 
 The life of a human being was in her power, 
 her father's guest the only man she had 
 ever felt she loved. Not a moment must be 
 lost. As quick as thought she thrust open the 
 door, and with bare arm, and unveiled face, 
 pointed to the poisoned dish. 
 
 " It is death," she cried, and fell senseless on 
 the floor. 
 
 Not a being was near, and in his room alone 
 was none other than the beautiful and mysteri- 
 ous Maid of Herat ! The lovely daughter of his 
 hospitable host ! Bernard at once realized the 
 true peril of his position. If discovered with 
 the chieftain's daughter in his chamber no power 
 on earth could save him, for the whole com- 
 munity would be enraged. Bolting the outer 
 door he at once endeavored to lift her almost 
 lifeless figure and carry it outside to the roof 
 of the harem, when to his relief Gulandamah 
 appeared and assisted her young mistress. 
 " God bless you," Bernard said as he released 
 her slender form and placed her on a rug which
 
 1 76 KUHAINAtf. 
 
 Gulandamah had spread just outside the door- 
 way, " God bless you, my own guardian angel," 
 he said. And he felt the loving pressure of her 
 hand as he parted from her and quietly closed 
 the door. 
 
 Such noble and disinterested conduct on the 
 part of so beautiful a creature as Ruhainah was 
 <of itself enough to draw out the strongest feel- 
 ings in such a chivalrous nature as that of Bern- 
 ard. But there was an expression in her eyes 
 as she seemed to awake to consciousness which 
 had enslaved his very soul. 
 
 What true nobility of character ! and what 
 simplicity ! what grace ! what a child of nature ! 
 Such were the thoughts which passed through 
 Bernard's mind as he seated himself on his 
 couch and mused upon the romantic scene 
 which had just been enacted. 
 
 " I am clearly in an awkward position, a 
 position which I suppose most fellows of a 
 romantic turn of mind would envy, but it seems 
 highly probable that I shall meet with the usual 
 fate of an Englishman in this horrid country." 
 
 His contemplations were interrupted by the 
 arrival of Alak, who found the dish of plan
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 177 
 
 untouched, and the officer firmly holding his 
 revolver. 
 
 " You have eaten little, sir," said the young 
 man, as he removed the dishes and gave them 
 to his servant. 
 
 " That dish of plan was too highly seasoned," 
 said Bernard looking significantly at Alak, 
 "You can leave me alone for the night!" 
 Sullenly did Alak retrace his steps. His plot 
 had been discovered. How? He could not 
 tell ! Not for a single moment did he suspect 
 the interposition of his sister. 
 
 " These foreigners are said to be masters of 
 necromancy. It must be by some occult 
 science that he discovered the poison," he 
 thought as he descended the staircase and 
 secretly made away with the poisoned dish. 
 
 In the inner court of the harem Ruhainah 
 reclined to all appearance in vacant abstrac- 
 tion, but in reality she was vividly recalling the 
 strange incident of her visit to Bernard's cham- 
 ber. To Bernard, and even to Gulandamah, 
 she had appeared unconscious, but she had 
 a distinct recollection of everything that 
 had occurred. And yet it all seemed a dream
 
 1 78 RUHAINAH. 
 
 or vision. The strange impulse which forced 
 her to forget all rules of Afghan etiquette, and 
 to stand before a foreigner, and an- unbeliever, 
 unveiled. The strong arms which so tenderly 
 and gently raised her from the ground. The 
 intelligent handsome face which gazed so kindly 
 upon her. The fervent blessing which came 
 from the stranger's lips as they parted. And 
 the responsive pressure of his hand, of which 
 she had been truly guilty ! The whole scene 
 all came back to her and she felt that never 
 in her whole life had she been conscious of 
 such emotions. It was love ! Passionate love ! 
 Such as she had often read of in books and 
 poems, but such as she had never realized 
 before. And then taking her little lamp she 
 read again and again Bernard's lines which now 
 had obtained their fullest meaning : 
 
 " Prudence sets great store by name and fame, 
 Love casteth both away." 
 
 It was no dream ! It was no romance ! It 
 was real life ! She had offered both her " name 
 and fame " at the shrine of an unlawful love ! 
 
 " To love an infidel ! one who curses our
 
 THE POISONED DISH. 1 79 
 
 Prophet ! who despises our holy book ! who 
 eats pork ! who cuts his mushtache in an 
 unlawful way ! what a dreadful sin ! it must 
 not be ! far better to be like poor Shaidy than 
 to love, and to marry an infidel ! " 
 
 " It must not be," and yet it was. And 
 so fervently, and so passionately did the flame 
 of pure love burn in the fair maiden's heart, 
 that she could not rest. 
 
 Restless, and unable to sleep, she sought 
 solace in the service of song ; and taking her 
 rebab, in the sweetest softest strains she sang : 
 
 " Deem not thou, the maiden blush 
 
 Ne'er can mantle this pale cheek. 
 Since in vain I strive to hush 
 Thoughts that speak. 
 
 Love for thee o'erweighs my soul, 
 Mocks each sober calm intent : 
 
 Places will beyond control, 
 Shame can naught prevent. 
 
 Yet if seeming bold to thee, 
 
 Blindly led by gentle wiles ; 
 Stranger eyes shall never see 
 
 How this spell beguiles.
 
 I So RUHAINAH. 
 
 Let me seek the woodland's shade, 
 Where soft winds shall bear my woe : 
 
 Hope may spring amid the glade ; 
 Tears may cease to flow." 
 
 Bernard listened to the dulcet sounds of 
 Ruhainah's song as they came through the 
 silent night and penetrated even the stillness 
 of his lonely chamber, but hardly did he realize 
 that those words in any way expressed the 
 young maiden's feelings toward himself. The 
 extreme danger of his position was, of itself, 
 enough to absorb his thoughts ; still, ever and 
 anon, those sweet loving eyes, and that soft 
 subtile form, would pass before his vision, as 
 he pictured her standing erect before him, her 
 face unveiled, and her arm uncovered, as she 
 pointed to the poisoned dish.
 
 M 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE OILY HINDU. 
 
 AJOR BERNARD felt he must lose no 
 time in taking some steps to secure his 
 own safety. For, however friendly the chief 
 of Abukilla might be, it was very evident the 
 old man could not control the actions of his son. 
 
 By means of a liberal bribe, he summoned 
 to his presence the oily specimen of humanity 
 known as " Nand Ram the shopkeeper." They 
 had met before, in former years, when Bernard 
 had employed the Hindu as a spy on the British 
 frontier. 
 
 " Bandagee, at your service," said Nand Ram, 
 as he stood in a cringing attitude, with folded 
 hands and lowly bow. " What is your honor's 
 command ? " 
 
 " Be seated. I am glad to see you. It is a 
 long time since we last met. How are you 
 getting on ? "
 
 1 82 RU HA IX AH. 
 
 " Sir! it was bad enough in those days when 
 the honest efforts of your honor's slave were 
 but little appreciated, but here I am simply 
 between two fires." 
 
 "What is the matter?" 
 
 " Treachery all around, sir. Not a man or 
 woman to be trusted. The old chief is honest 
 enough, but he has treachery in his own family. 
 His son Alak, and the young Sheenwaree wife 
 have turned the whole place into a state of pur- 
 gatory." 
 
 "You must have a bad time of it then." 
 
 " It is difficult for a man of my integrity to 
 serve three masters. I try to be a faithful 
 servant of your government ; I have to keep 
 in with the Ameer ; and I endeavor to serve the 
 interests of my own chief, for there is not 
 a better man in the whole country than 
 Abdullah." 
 
 " And I have not the least doubt you man- 
 age it all with admirable tact and skill." 
 
 The Hindu acknowledged the compliment 
 with a salaam. 
 
 "Tell me," said Bernard, "what is the matter 
 between Abdullah and his young wife ? "
 
 THE OIL Y HIND U. 1 83 
 
 " Simply this. An old man of seventy has 
 married a young girl of sixteen, and she is 
 playing the very devil. But, perhaps, you are 
 not aware that the supreme influence in the old 
 chieftain's harem is that of his favorite daugh- 
 ter?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " And the old man won't marry her to any 
 one." 
 
 " Well, what of that ? " 
 
 " Why, it is considered by all of us a disgrace 
 that a young maiden of seventeen years should 
 be unbetrothed." 
 
 " Indeed ! " 
 
 "Yes, and what is more, the chief of the 
 Sheenwaree tribe demands her in marriage." 
 
 " Can you tell me anything regarding this 
 young girl?" said Bernard affecting indiffer- 
 ence. 
 
 Nand Ram drew near, and whispered : 
 
 " Her name is Ruhainah. Her mother was a 
 Cashmere lady of great beauty, whom, it is said, 
 Abdullah killed in a fit of jealousy. But some 
 say she is the daughter of a Sudozie princess 
 of royal lineage. It is impossible to tell which
 
 1 84 RUHAINAH. 
 
 is the true story, for this is an age in which men 
 never speak the truth." 
 
 " But what is your own impression ?" 
 
 " I am inclined to believe the Cashmere 
 story." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Because it accounts for the great love the 
 old man bears the girl. He loves her because 
 he killed her mother." 
 
 " Have you ever seen her?" 
 
 " No, but I am told she is a maiden of the 
 most marvellous beauty." 
 
 " But you cannot always believe these re- 
 ports," said Bernard anxious to conceal his real 
 interest in Ruhainah. 
 
 " Of course you cannot. But even Nurejan, 
 the chief's young wife, says she is very lovely." 
 
 "Then you see Nurejan sometimes?" in- 
 quired Bernard slyly. 
 
 " Of course I do. She is my chief agent. Her 
 friendships and her intrigues are so many that 
 I find her as good as a dozen spies." 
 
 "Then you are admitted into the harem?" 
 
 " No, she comes to my shop to make pur- 
 chases."
 
 THE OIL Y HINDU. 185 
 
 " But I thought ladies in this country never 
 went abroad ? " 
 
 " Bless your life, they all do it. Veiled in a 
 bourka, who can tell who visits the shop of Nand 
 Ram?" and the Hindu chuckled. 
 
 " Is Alak Ruhainah's ow n brother ? " 
 
 " No, by a different mother." 
 
 " He seems to be a young scoundrel." 
 
 " Yes. Have you seen the red henna spot 
 in the palm of his hand ? Alak is a member 
 of the Guild of the Red Hand." 
 
 " The chief of which I shot the other day ? " 
 
 " Yes, I heard of it. I am sorry you lost 
 Dilawar. He was a faithful man." 
 
 " Have you heard from Cabul ? " 
 
 " I have just got a secret dispatch. They 
 are difficult to get in these days. Look 
 here." 
 
 And he unrolled a small piece of pink tissue 
 paper, written all over in mystic characters. 
 
 " Look at this, sir," he said holding up the 
 precious little document. "The runner who 
 brought this was seized by one of the Ameer's 
 secret police and stripped to the skin, but the 
 paper could not be found."
 
 1 86 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 " I suppose he had sewn it in the sole of his 
 shoe?" suggested Bernard. 
 
 " O ! no that is too old a game. The fel- 
 low hid it in his nostril, and swore in the Pro- 
 phet's name that he was a poor student. You 
 see, sir, my business is a dangerous one. Three 
 of my runners have been murdered this year." 
 
 " Have you any news from the Ameer re- 
 garding myself ?" inquired Bernard. 
 
 i 
 
 " Yes, his highness will invite you to Cabul." 
 
 " But my life is not safe in this place a sin- 
 gle day." 
 
 " Then leave the fort at once." 
 
 " That is impossible. As soon as Alak knows 
 my determination he will take my life. He 
 has already attempted to poison me." 
 
 " I know it. But listen to me ! If you want to 
 escape you can do it to-night." 
 
 " How ? " 
 
 " On one condition I will tell you." 
 
 " What are your terms? " 
 
 " That you breathe not a word of what I am 
 going to tell you to a single member of the 
 chieftain's household. To no one, in fact." 
 
 " I will swear."
 
 THE OIL Y HIND U. 187 
 
 " Swear in the name of God and His 
 Prophet." 
 
 " But I am a Christian." 
 
 " Then kiss the Injeel" 
 
 "I do not possess a New Testament, all my 
 baggage has been stolen." 
 
 " Say Ram Ram." 
 
 " I cannot swear as an idolater. I give you 
 my word, and that must be enough." 
 
 " Scarcely." 
 
 " I can also add a promise of thousand 
 rupees, if that will satisfy you ? " 
 
 " Sir, we have a profound respect for an En- 
 glishman's word, but we like his rupees better ! " 
 
 " The thousand rupees -shall be paid upon 
 my safe return to India." 
 
 "Then listen, Major Sahib ! I told you that 
 Nurejan, the chief's young wife, often visits 
 me. Well, yesterday she informed me that to- 
 night, this very night, will Musa, the chief of 
 her tribe, attack the fort and carry off the beau- 
 tiful Maid of Herat." 
 
 "Abdullah must be told of this," 
 
 " Stay, sir ! Have you not promised to keep 
 my secret ? "
 
 1 88 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " True. It shall be faithfully kept." 
 
 " My sole reason for divulging the plot to 
 you is this : You can escape during the distur- 
 bance. There will be a great deal of noise, but 
 this will be of no consequence to you, you will 
 not care to interfere in the matter. Let these 
 Afghans fight their own battles. And escape 
 for your life." 
 
 " But how can this be arranged ? " 
 
 " Sleep with your weapons by your side. 
 Your white Arab charger shall be ready sad- 
 dled by the time you reach the court-yard. 
 Keep out of Alak's way, and ride for your veiy 
 life to Jalalabad." 
 
 Little did the treacherous Hindu realize what 
 feelings of consternation he had excited in the 
 breast of the Englishman as he coolly related 
 the plot for Ruhainah's abduction. 
 
 " Nand Ram, you are an excellent fellow. 
 Listen ! I have promised you a thousand 
 rupees. But you shall have more if you will 
 make known to me the whole plot." 
 
 " But remember, you must not tell a single 
 being." 
 
 " I have promised."
 
 THE OILY HINDU. 189 
 
 " Listen ! Our plans are these." 
 " Then you are party to the plot ? " 
 " Of course I am ! Hence the condition that 
 you keep the whole thing secret. My dear sir ! " 
 said the Hindu, placing his hand on Bernard's 
 in a confidential manner, " my dear sir! Much 
 as Nand Ram loves your honor's gold, he loves 
 his life better ! " 
 
 " I quite understand that, my friend ! But 
 proceed." 
 
 " Well, our scheme is as follows : To-night, 
 when they are all fast asleep, Nurejan will 
 secretly unfasten the door of the fort, and 
 Musa, the Sheenwaree chief, will enter with an 
 armed band. Outside the harem I shall place 
 a ladder whereby Musa can descend with his 
 Ruhainah." And the old villain chuckled at 
 the thought of his taking part in so romantic 
 an enterprise. " Now, sir, while Musa and I 
 are settling matters with the fair lady you can 
 be far on your way to Jalalabad. There you 
 will find my brother Ram Das who will help 
 you on your way to Cabul." 
 
 " Nand Ram," said Bernard coaxingly, " I 
 will reward you handsomely if you will let
 
 190 RUHAINAH. 
 
 me divulge the whole plot to the young 
 lady." 
 
 "What!" exclaimed the Hindu, "would 
 you, a foreigner and an alien, dare to violate 
 the sanctity of your host's harem, and converse 
 with a young Afghan maiden whom you have 
 never seen ? No, sir ! Such is not the custom of 
 this country. Take care of yourself, my noble 
 sir, and leave these Afghans to settle their own 
 affairs. Don't, for your life's sake, touch their 
 women or you are a dead man ! " 
 
 Bernard saw the Hindu was immoveable, 
 and that if he wished to serve Ruhainah it 
 must not be by divulging the secret. 
 
 " At what time will the attack on the fort be 
 made ?" he inquired. 
 
 " Not until early morn, just about the time 
 that Ahmad ascends the minaret to give the 
 call to prayer. The people sleep soundest in 
 the morning, and besides this, it is impossible 
 for horsemen to escape down the rugged path- 
 way until the break of day." 
 
 Bernard felt that if Nand Ram remained 
 longer he might betray more interest in 
 Ruhainah's affairs than was consistent with his
 
 THE OIL Y HIND U. 191 
 
 position as a mere traveller. He therefore 
 reluctantly gave him permission to depart. 
 
 In a few minutes Abdullah entered and 
 cheerfully saluted his guest. 
 
 "You must find it lonely in this room, Major 
 Sahib ! But you see I am afraid to expose your 
 life among a wild and ungovernable set of 
 people like mine." 
 
 " It is very thoughtful of you to be so 
 solicitous regarding my safety," said Bernard, 
 " but I am naturally anxious to see a little 
 more of the people than I have already done. 
 Travellers usually journey for the sake of sight 
 seeing ! " 
 
 "And for obtaining information!" added 
 Abdullah significantly. " But I have come to 
 tell you that in the course of a few days you 
 may expect an invitation from Cabul. How- 
 ever, if you want to see a little of our village 
 life, you can do so this evening, for I have a 
 large number of guests from all parts of the 
 country, and as my daughter's nuptials are 
 scarcely over, we intend to have a special 
 gathering. You will then see something of 
 Afghan life."
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 
 
 AT sunset, when the toils of the day were 
 over, the villagers and their chief 
 assembled in the guest-chamber of the fort 
 to pass the evening with their friends in joyous 
 merriment and social intercourse. 
 
 A prominent personage in the festive 
 gathering was Ahmad, the village priest, 
 whose reputation as a poet exceeded that of 
 any living Afghan, and whose genial qualities 
 made him a welcome visitor to the Hujrah of 
 the fort. 
 
 Seated beside the priest was Shahbaz, the 
 jester, who in more prosperous days had en- 
 livened even the revels of princes. 
 
 Then, there were strangers from the almost 
 unknown regions of Central Asia, now on their 
 way to Bombay to embark on the Meccan pil- 
 grimage; merchants, with grapes and dried
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 193 
 
 fruits for Calcutta ; coolies seeking employment 
 in India; Mohmund and Sheenwaree vil- 
 lagers, and Khyber robbers ; and, above all, the 
 village minstrels helped to form the motley 
 group. 
 
 Akbar, the slave, handed round the pipe to 
 the heterodox, and supplied pure spring water 
 to the thirsty souls of the faithful. 
 
 "Are you fond of our music?" inquired 
 Abdullah of Bernard. 
 
 "Your band performed with commendable 
 vigor at your daughter's wedding," Bernard 
 replied, "but I have heard too little to give an 
 opinion as to its merits. It reminds me of the 
 bagpipes of Scotland." 
 
 "Ah, those soldiers in petticoats," said 
 Abdullah, " they look like dancing girls, but, 
 by the Prophet, they fight like fiends." 
 
 " What have you specially good in music ? " 
 inquired Abdullah of the chief minstrel. 
 
 "Did you ever hear Zakhmee, sir? It is a 
 new tune by that famous poet Meera." 
 
 "You don't call Meera a poet," exclaimed 
 Ahmad. " He is but a mere rhymer." 
 
 " Reverend sir ! may my life be sacrificed for
 
 194 RUHAINAH. 
 
 you ! I dare not hazard an opinion as to 
 Meera's excellence as a poet, 'but this tune 
 of his will be sung when our names are for- 
 gotten." 
 
 "After your exalted name is forgotten," said 
 the jester. " But please remember that the 
 names of Ahmad and Shahbaz will be fresh and 
 green when your lutes and lyres are as silent as 
 the cold earth. Although " the rose bloom lon^ 
 it bloometh not forever," as our great poet 
 saith. 
 
 " Well, give us a little of Zakhmee" said the 
 chieftain. 
 
 Marshalled by a few vigorous strokes on the 
 drum the minstrels took their lutes and rebabs 
 and with the greatest animation played the 
 popular air, as Shahbaz the jester kept time 
 with his hands and lips. 
 
 Zakhmee, which has since had a world-wide 
 fame, ran thus :
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 
 
 95 
 
 
 
 11 Afreen, Afreen ! Well done ! " shouted the 
 whole party, " there is not a minstrel equal to 
 Meera even in Persia itself." 
 
 " It is strange that our Prophet forbade 
 music," said an old white-bearded traveller 
 enjoying a vigorous pull at the pipe in a distant 
 corner of the chamber. 
 
 "The injunction rests on a disputed tradition 
 of the Prophet's sayings," remarked the priest, 
 " but it is almost certain that his majesty 
 forbade smoking," he added, smiling at the old 
 man. 
 
 " And yet, how common smoking has 
 become," said Abdullah. " In these days both 
 saints and sinners use tobacco."
 
 196 KUHAtNAtf. 
 
 " But the Akhund of Swat has forbidden 
 smoking," said a young student. 
 
 "Yes, and even snuff," said Shahbaz the jester, 
 looking at Mullah Ahmad, who was an inveter- 
 ate snuff-taker. " But cheer up, boys. Let us 
 have another song." 
 
 " I would like to put a question to this assem- 
 bly, if I may," said a poor student in tatters. 
 
 " No ! Let us have the song," said several. 
 
 " Let the young man put his question," said 
 Abdullah with authority. 
 
 " Well, sir, it is a question of arithmetic. A 
 few days ago I and a young friend of mine 
 were seated on the floor of our mosque 
 dining off eight loaves of bread, three of 
 which were mine and five belonging to my fel- 
 low student, when a rich traveller came that 
 way and begged that he might join us in our 
 frugal repast. We consented, and we all three 
 ate equally. When our rich friend departed 
 he generously threw us eight rupees. Of course, 
 I expected to share and share alike. But my 
 fellow student will only give me three rupees, 
 one for each loaf and insists upon keeping five 
 rupees himself."
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 197 
 
 " It is shameful ! " exclaimed the guests, " he 
 should certainly give you half the money." 
 
 " Stay ! " said Mullah Ahmad, assuming the 
 dignity of a judge. " Stay, my young friend ! if 
 you want it decided according to strict justice, 
 verily thou shouldest take three rupees and be 
 grateful, for of a truth only one rupee is thy just 
 due. That is correct, is it not, sir? "he said, 
 turning to Major Bernard. 
 
 The poor student was bewildered, and began 
 to calculate the sum on his five fingers. 
 
 " I will explain the sum for you, young man," 
 said the priest. " You were three persons with 
 eight loaves and you ate equally ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Then if each loaf were divided, there would 
 be eight shares falling to the lot of each, 
 making twenty-four shares in all ? " 
 
 " Yes, certainly." 
 
 " The traveller then ate seven portions belong- 
 ing to thy fellow student and only one belong- 
 ing to thee. Thou art therefore only entitled 
 to one rupee. That is justice." 
 
 " Verily, thou art a Solomon ! " exclaimed 
 Shahbaz."
 
 198 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Mullah Ahmad is correct," said Bernard. 
 
 The poor student was still calculating the 
 twenty-four shares on his five fingers, when a 
 tall thin man in a camels' hair choga with a 
 thin voice said : " A strange story reaches us 
 from the mountains of Terah." 
 
 " What is that ? " inquired several. 
 
 " Why, a man in the village of Gamoo was mur- 
 dered, and his next of kin wasa beautiful maiden 
 of some fourteen years, his only daughter. And, 
 by the Prophet, she insisted upon being the 
 avenger of blood. The assassin was caught, 
 brought into the fair maiden's presence, and 
 let loose, and then the young girl sprang upon 
 him like a lioness and plunged her dagger into 
 the murderer's heart." 
 
 " Those Terah girls have the spirit of 
 tigresses," said one of the guests. 
 
 " They are not to be compared with the 
 Khutak girls," said Mullah Ahmad. " Why 
 only the other day a Khutak maid was forced to 
 marry against her will, and she plunged a dag- 
 ger into the bridegroom's breast the very 
 moment she saw him." 
 
 " Moulavie Sahib," said Abdullah anxious
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 199 
 
 to change the subject, for he thought of his 
 little Shaidy, " tell the major your famous 
 story of the ascetic from Cabul." 
 
 " Once upon a time, so the story runs," said 
 the priest, " there lived a saintly man who 
 having spent many years alone in the desert, 
 in severe penance and ascetic mortification, 
 determined to see a little more life, and he came 
 to the city of Cabul." 
 
 " Where there is enough wickedness even to 
 satisfy Pharaoh, king of Egypt," added Shahbaz. 
 
 " Well, he came to the city of Cabul, and 
 there in the great market place which the 
 English destroyed" he said, looking at Major 
 Bernard, " he found himself in the midst of the 
 din and bustle of the world, and a gay and 
 thoughtless round of revelry and pleasure. 
 Feeling much oppressed and tired, he begged 
 permission to sleep in front of a tradesman's 
 shop. But as he lay down to slumber he said 
 to himself : ' How shall I know that I am my- 
 self when I awake amid all this noise and 
 excitement ? ' A sudden thought struck him. 
 He had some pumpkins in his scarf, and taking 
 one of them he tied it to his leg, and said he :
 
 200 RUHAINAH. 
 
 ' Now, when I awake I shall know that I am 
 myself, when I see the pumpkin.' But, a cer- 
 tain wag passed that way, and beholding the 
 gourd tied, to the good man's leg unloosed 
 it, and tied it to his own, and fell asleep beside 
 the saint. The ascetic awoke, and seeing the 
 pumpkin fastened to the leg of another man, in 
 bewilderment, exclaimed : 
 
 " ' Whether I be I or no ? 
 
 If I, the pumpkin why on you ? 
 
 If you ? then where am I ? and who ? ' ' 
 
 " Shahbash ! Afreen ! well done ! " exclaimed 
 the party, in which Bernard joined. 
 
 " This story is really told," said the priest, 
 " by the Persian poet Jami, but I have given an 
 Afghan version of it." 
 
 " Yes," said Bernard, " I remember reading it 
 in my Persian studies. Those are fine senti- 
 ments of the poet where he says : 
 
 " ' Celestial beauty seen 
 
 He left the earthly : and once came to know 
 Eternal love, he let the mortal go.' " 
 
 Shahbaz the jester was about to favor the
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 2Ol 
 
 convivial party with a song, when the whole 
 audience was hushed into solemn silence as the 
 plaintive voice of young Yusuf gave forth the 
 call to prayer from the minaret of the mosque : 
 
 " God is great ! 
 
 " There is no God but God ! 
 
 " Mohamed is His prophet ! 
 
 " Come to prayer ! 
 
 " Come to salvation ! " 
 
 And as the melancholy notes were heard 
 floating through the air in the stillness of the 
 cool moonlit evening, the old chieftain of 
 Abukilla raised his hands in fervent supplication 
 and said : " O thou great God ! I have no power 
 or strength but in Thee ! " 
 
 " Ameen" said the priest. 
 
 Abdullah and his guests adjourned to the 
 mosque for night prayer, and Major Bernard 
 accompanied by Alak went to the upper 
 chamber. 
 
 Closing the door, Bernard, seizing his revolver, 
 placed his hand on Alak's shoulder, and pre- 
 senting the muzzle of his pistol to the young 
 man's heart, he said with firmness : 
 
 " Young man, listen ! by a secret influence
 
 202 RUHAINAH. 
 
 unknown to you I am aware that you are 
 attempting to take my life. To poison me, 
 in fact ! " 
 
 Alak grew deadly pale and trembled. 
 
 " Now remember," Bernard continued. " I 
 am not afraid to die. I have often in my life 
 faced death. But I want you to understand 
 that it is only in consideration of your father " 
 (Bernard had almost said " your sister "), " that I 
 spare your life. Or, by God ! you would lie 
 dead at my feet this very moment." 
 
 " Sir ! " said Alak, releasing himself from 
 Bernard's iron grip. " Sir ! I have a vow upon 
 me. The Avenger of Blood is, as you know, 
 an institution of our religion and of our coun- 
 try. I am a member of Hasan's guild, and I 
 must avenge his death." 
 
 " Avenge it then as a man of courage, and 
 not as an assassin." 
 
 " You shall be safe," said Alak, " as long as 
 you are my father's guest." 
 
 " On one condition do I spare you : you shall 
 taste every dish you offer me." 
 
 Alak, having left, Bernard was preparing for 
 the eventful night, when his door gently
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 203 
 
 opened, and there stood before him a tall, spare 
 man, clad in a sheepskin coat, and armed with 
 pistol, sword and dagger. 
 
 " I am late, sir," said the stranger in a husky 
 voice, "but now all true Moslems are prostrate 
 in the mosque, I have come to obtain your 
 assistance." 
 
 " Sit down. What is the nature of your 
 request? " 
 
 " Sir, the chief's son says you are an adept 
 in all the learned sciences." 
 . " Oh ! he has made that discovery, has he ? " 
 said Bernard, smiling. 
 
 " Well, sir ! I have no doubt you have studied 
 chemistry ? " 
 
 " Yes, a little." 
 
 " Sir ! have you such a thing as a poison, 
 which, if put into a man's food, would not take 
 effect until a few days afterward ?" 
 
 "I have no medicines with me. But may I 
 ask, for what purpose you want it ? " 
 
 " I want to poison my enemy?" 
 
 " And you want me to assist you in a foul 
 murder ? Are you not ashamed of yourself? " 
 exclaimed Bernard, in anger.
 
 204 R UNA IN AH. 
 
 " Don't be angry," pleaded the stranger. "If 
 you will only listen to me, I will tell you why 
 I want that poison, and you will then see that, 
 after all, I am not such a bad man as you think 
 me." 
 
 "I am open to conviction," replied Bernard. 
 "Proceed !" 
 
 " Well, sir, some years ago an enemy of 
 mine sought to take my life, and one night he 
 came to my dwelling when we were all asleep 
 outside our houses. Creeping stealthily to my 
 cot he plunged his dagger into the quilt. But 
 it happened that I was not sleeping on my 
 charpoy that night. But my favorite daughter 
 was. And the villain's dagger had pierced the 
 heart of my beloved child. Well, sir! I swore 
 over the bleeding body of my murdered child 
 that I would avenge her death, and for several 
 years I endeavored to take that man's life. 
 And one day he came into my presence and 
 begged for mercy." 
 
 "And you forgave him ?" 
 
 " Yes, I did. But you know, sir, an Afghan 
 never forgives. And take that man's life I will. 
 Now, when Alak told me that you were a
 
 THE GUEST-CHAMBER. 205 
 
 master of alchemy, I thought to myself ' Then 
 he can give me the very poison I want.' Now, 
 if you could give me poison which would take 
 effect about a week after it is administered, 
 I would invite that fellow to dinner, and drop a 
 little into his food. He would go home and 
 die. And not a soul would know who killed 
 him. I should then have my revenge, and yet 
 pass as a man of honor among my tribe." 
 
 " You Afghans are certainly a strange peo- 
 ple," said Bernard. " You call yourselves ' Bene 
 Israel} but some of you must be ' Bene Shai- 
 tdn ' ?" 
 
 " Yes," said the stranger ; " that man for 
 whom I wanted the poison is truly a son of 
 Satan." 
 
 "But there are angels among you," said 
 Bernard to himself as he thought of the fair 
 girl whom he was determined to rescue that 
 very night. 
 
 "You may leave," he said to the husky 
 stranger, as he opened the door. 
 
 The door secured, Bernard armed himself for 
 the night. At any cost, even at the peril of his 
 own life, should Ruhainah's honor be defended.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 
 
 THE village watchman was wearing weary 
 with the night watch, as the cock-crowing 
 announced the dawning of the morn ; and the 
 village priest had scarcely given forth the morn- 
 ing call " prayers are better than sleep " when a 
 huge stone hurled from a distance felled the 
 faithful sentinel to the ground. 
 
 Musa, the Sheenwaree chief, and a band of 
 violent men, then entered the door of the fort, 
 and were soon engaged in a deadly conflict with 
 Alak and his father's sturdy retainers. 
 
 Taking advantage of the confusion in the 
 outer court, Musa entered the harem, and, by a 
 single sword-cut laid Abdullah helpless on his 
 bed, as Nurejan the arch-traitress hid her 
 treachery amid the most frantic yells of 
 " wai, wai." 
 
 " Help ! " shouted Gulandamah rushing into
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 207 
 
 Bernard's room. But the chamber was unoccu- 
 pied ; the officer had descended to the Hujrah 
 in search of his Arab charger, and was not to be 
 found. 
 
 There was some delay, as Major Bernard 
 had to carefully avoid detection. And, in 
 the meantime, Musa the Sheenwaree chief 
 had seized Ruhainah and with Nand Ram's 
 assistance carried her from the roof to the 
 outside of the fort. 
 
 Bernard found his white Arab charger, as 
 Nand Ram had promised, ready saddled, and 
 mounting his horse galloped out of the fort, 
 and was soon in hot pursuit of the man who 
 held possession of the beautiful maiden he so 
 passionately loved. 
 
 Musa had a fair start of his pursuer, and it 
 was fully a half an hour's race before Bernard 
 came upon the Sheenwaree chief with his help- 
 less burden. 
 
 Holding Ruhainah's slender form in front of 
 him on the saddle, Musa was urging his horse 
 at frantic speed when the Englishman came 
 within a few paces of him. 
 
 " Stop ! " cried Bernard, " or I will fire."
 
 208 RUHAINAH. 
 
 He had scarcely uttered the words when two 
 bullets from Musa's pistol whizzed past his 
 head. 
 
 " Stop ! or I will fire," repeated Bernard. 
 
 " Fire ! you infidel ! Fire ! " cried Musa as he 
 held the helpless form of Ruhainah before him. 
 
 Ruhainah, hearing a voice, awoke to con- 
 sciousness and by a desperate effort freed her- 
 self from Musa's grasp and fell senseless to the 
 earth. As quick as thought Bernard engaged 
 the chief in close combat. 
 
 English officers are not as used to single com- 
 bat as an Afghan warrior, and Musa had the 
 manifest advantage in the weight of his weapon. 
 Bernard was clearly losing ground, when he 
 remembered 'a favorite thrust he had learned 
 at college, and drawing his charger a few paces 
 back rushed with fury upon his opponent and 
 pierced his heart. 
 
 " Allah ! " cried Musa, as he fell dead on the 
 ground. 
 
 A scream of horror escaped the lips of Ruh- 
 ainah, as she beheld the chief stretched lifeless 
 on the cold earth. 
 
 Major Bernard was now in sole possession
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 209 
 
 of the Fair Maid of Herat. He gently raised 
 her from the ground, and Ruhainah, clad in 
 the milk-white folds of the modest garment 
 which so artfully concealed the fair proportions 
 of her graceful form, lay on his manly breast, 
 as her luxuriant tresses, wafted in the morn- 
 ing breeze, covered the brave arm which had 
 so nobly defended her honor and her life. 
 
 Softly and stealthily opening her beautiful 
 eyes Ruhainah beheld the gallant knight who 
 had fought so bravely in her cause, and endeav- 
 oring to release herself from his impassioned 
 embrace, she exclaimed : 
 
 " O Sahib ! is it you ? " 
 
 " Yes, my little rose, it is I." 
 
 "Where is my father? Where is Alak? " 
 
 " God alone knows. I left them defending 
 the fort." 
 
 " But are we alone?" 
 
 "Yes," and Bernard was conscious that she 
 clung to him for protection, as he uttered the 
 simple monosyllable. 
 
 " Ruhainah," he said, addressing her by name. 
 " Ruhainah, you must trust yourself to me." 
 
 " But you foreigners are so wicked ! My
 
 210 RUHAINAH, 
 
 father has often told me the dreadful things you 
 did in Cabul." 
 
 "We are not all bad," said Bernard smiling 
 at the girl's simplicity. " At all events you 
 are alone and there is not a soul to help you. 
 You saved my life, and now I have saved yours. 
 You must trust me." And he tenderly kissed 
 her hand. 
 
 " Indeed I will," and she nestled so confidently 
 and trustfully beneath his long flowing beard. 
 
 " You will take me to my father, won't 
 you ? " 
 
 " Of course I will. Do you think I am 
 going to run away with you ?" 
 
 " Oh ! I was so frightened. The villain 
 seized me when I was asleep and put his hand 
 on my mouth and I could not give the alarm," 
 she said, as she put her head on his lap and 
 wept. 
 
 " Don't cry, my dear little maid. I will put 
 you on my horse and walk by your side, and 
 take the greatest care of you." 
 
 " But some of Musa's followers will soon be 
 here, and they will kill you and carry me away," 
 she rejoined.
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 211 
 
 " Don't be afraid, my little rose, I think I 
 am ready for them," and Bernard seized his 
 revolver. 
 
 " How brave you are ! " she said, looking at 
 him with tearful eyes, and with an expression 
 of undisguised pride and admiration. " Why, 
 you are as brave as the ' Rustum of Herat.' 
 But it is very wrong for me to stay with you, 
 Major Sahib, alone in this place," she added, 
 releasing herself from Bernard's warm embrace 
 coquettishly. 
 
 Tenderly covering her with his large sheep- 
 skin coat, he lifted her to his charger and 
 they proceeded slowly in the direction of the 
 fort. 
 
 " Listen ! they are coming ! Oh ! what shall 
 I do? " she cried with alarm. 
 
 A cloud of dust in the distance clearly indi- 
 cated the rapid approach of horsemen. 
 
 " Ruhainah ! can you fire a pistol? " he said, 
 handing his revolver. 
 
 " Yes," she replied, her eyes flashing with 
 determination. " I once helped in defending 
 our caravan on the way from Herat." 
 
 " My brave girl ! then stay where you are,
 
 212 RUHAINAH. 
 
 hold tight on the horse, and as they ap- 
 proach fire into them, and then gallop for your 
 life." 
 
 " And what will you do ? " 
 
 " Kill the rest. Take good aim as they come 
 in sight, my dear girl." Bernard stood amazed 
 as he saw the delicate young girl resolutely 
 prepare herself for the attack with all the cool- 
 ness and deliberation of a trained warrior. 
 
 But the alarm was needless, for the party 
 consisted of her brother Alak and six mounted 
 retainers. 
 
 "Afreen ! Afreen ! " shouted Alak, as he saw 
 his sister on Bernard's horse. " Where is the 
 Kafir?" 
 
 " There," said Bernard pointing to the bleed- 
 ing corpse of the dead chief. 
 
 " The foreigner is a good shot," said Alak, 
 addressing his men, as they dismounted and 
 offered Bernard one of their horses. " But let 
 us return to the fort without delay. We must 
 keep all together, for at any moment we may 
 be attacked." 
 
 They rode fast, and Bernard saw that the 
 plucky Afghan girl could not only fire a pistol,
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 213 
 
 but ride a somewhat restive steed under the 
 most trying circumstances. 
 
 " Your sister will be tired," he said to Alak. 
 
 " No, she won't be very tired," replied Alak. 
 " It is not the first time she has ridden. My 
 father taught her to ride, for the old man 
 always said that in a country like this we never 
 knew when we should have to flee for our very 
 lives. The ' Rustum of Herat,' sir, is a re- 
 markable man, but I am afraid the good old 
 saint's hours are numbered." 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " He is badly wounded." 
 
 After a brisk ride, they entered the fort. 
 Dismayed attendants were running in every di- 
 rection in the wildest excitement, and the whole 
 place presented a scene of carnage which told 
 with what desperate resistance Alak and his men 
 had defended the fort. Not fewer than eight of 
 M usa's followers lay stretched dead on the 
 ground, while five more were prisoners bound 
 hand and foot, and suffering from the most 
 ghastly wounds.
 
 214 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Alak tenderly lifted his sister from her 
 horse, when she ran hastily into the inner court 
 of the harem, where she found the old chieftain 
 lying on his couch dangerously wounded. 
 
 " Father ! father, speak ! " 
 
 " Is that Ruhainah ? Thanks be to God ! 
 O lift me up." And the women in attendance 
 raised his pillows. 
 
 "Dear child," he said, placing his trembling 
 hand upon his daughter's head, " my dear 
 child, my race is nearly run. It is God's will ; 
 we cannot resist the decrees of the Almighty." 
 
 "Oh, father! You won't die! You must 
 not die ! Ruhainah cannot live without her 
 father!" 
 
 " Wai! wai!" shouted the Sheenwaree 
 wife in feigned grief, when the whole company 
 of wives and slaves raised a mournful wail* of 
 lamentation, and beat their breasts and tore 
 their hair in the wildest excitement. 
 
 "Silence!" said Alak, " this is not the time 
 for lamentation. The Rustum of Herat is not 
 dead yet." 
 
 " Where is the Englishman ? " exclaimed 
 Abdullah.
 
 THE A BD UCTION. 2 1 5 
 
 ' Outside in the Hujrah." 
 
 " Bring him here instantly," said Abdullah. 
 
 "O father! do not be angry with him, it was 
 not his fault. He saved my life, indeed he 
 did." 
 
 " Peace, my child ! I know it, but I must see 
 him before I die. Send the women away." 
 
 " Must I leave also ? " said Alak. 
 
 " No, you must stay as a witness, and so must 
 Mullah Ahmad, for in the presence of two wit- 
 nesses my word will be established." 
 
 With a firm step, and with his hand on the 
 hilt of his sword Major Bernard entered the 
 harem and approached the couch on which 
 Abdullah lay. 
 
 Abdullah extending his hand whispered, 
 " Thou art, of a truth, a true Afghan." 
 
 Bernard knelt by his bed and taking the 
 chief's hand said, " Sir, this is the proudest day of 
 my life." 
 
 And as he said the words his eyes met 
 those of Ruhainah. It was that sweet look 
 which had so captivated him from the very first 
 and which reminded him of past years. 
 
 " Major Sahib ! I am dying ! The angel of
 
 216 RUHAINAH. 
 
 death is waiting to discourse with me, and my 
 time is short. There are several things I must 
 tell you before I die." 
 
 " If they are secrets of state had we better 
 not be alone?" said Bernard. 
 
 "That is not necessary. Nay, rather it is of 
 great importance that my words be affirmed by 
 witnesses. 
 
 " Listen, Ruhainah ! listen, Alak ! " 
 
 The dying man became unconscious, ere he 
 could say more. The whole four, Bernard, 
 Ruhainah, Alak and the priest, waited with 
 almost breathless anxiety. Would the secret, 
 after all, die with him ? 
 
 Gradually he returned to consciousness. 
 
 " Alak, raise me ! Ruhainah, kiss me, my 
 child! My last kiss!" 
 
 " O no, my father, not your last" 
 
 " Yes, Ruhainah, my last'' he said with great 
 emphasis. " My last kiss. Major, listen ! This 
 girl, whose honor you have so bravely protected 
 at the risk of your own life, is not my child. 
 God knows I have loved her as my own. But 
 she is not mine. She belongs to your race 
 she is English."
 
 THE A BD UC TION. 2 1 7 
 
 " No, my father ! I am not English ! I am 
 your own child ! " cried Ruhainah, as she flung 
 herself upon the old man and wept in agony, 
 kissing his lips over and over again. 
 
 " Listen, Ruhainah ! for my breath fails me. 
 Listen, Major Sahib! It is now seventeen 
 years or more since the Afghans destroyed the 
 whole British army in Cabul. And in the Jug- 
 dalak pass on the I2th of January, 1842, for I 
 remember the Christian date, we had a terrible 
 death struggle. I was one of Akbar Khan's 
 captains, and, as I was urging on my men I was 
 suddenly seized by an English officer and 
 dragged to the ground. He fired. The En- 
 glishman fired (and Abdullah raised his sleeve 
 and exhibited a bullet mark on his left arm), and 
 in self-defence I plunged my dagger into his 
 side. He lingered for a few minutes, and 
 before he died he said, ' Spare my little child, 
 she is there under that rock in charge of a Hin- 
 du servant,' and he breathed his last. 
 
 " The child I found in the snow, in the stif- 
 fened arms of a native nurse, who had died from 
 the cold. I took the little creature into my 
 arms, and, as I kissed her, she placed her tiny
 
 2l8 RUHAINAH. 
 
 fingers into my long beard, stained as it was 
 with her father's blood, and smiled. The child 
 won my heart. And she has ever from that 
 moment loved me with the truest devotion 
 that child is Ruhainah." 
 
 Ruhainah let go the chief's hand with a look 
 of terror. And then clinging to his neck wept 
 aloud.* " O my dear good father! You are the 
 only father I have ever known. I love you 
 still and I shall ever love you ! " 
 
 " Peace, Ruhainah ! this hand is stained with 
 your father's blood still, God knows, I did it 
 in self-defence. And Alak is witness that I 
 have loved you with even more than a father's 
 love." 
 
 The dying man sunk into unconsciousness 
 and it was evident it was near the end. Ruhai- 
 nah lovingly bathed his forehead with rose- 
 water, as the priest prepared to recite the 
 offices for the dying, when suddenly Abdullah 
 awoke and seizing a knife laid hold of Ruhai- 
 nah's neck. 
 
 " Stay ! " cried Bernard, arresting the old 
 man's hand and gently placing it on the 
 pillow.
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 219 
 
 "You would not kill me, father dear?" said 
 Ruhainah as she kissed his forehead. " Ruhainah 
 loves you as much as ever." 
 
 " No ! you do not understand ! cut it ! 
 open it ! it is all there ! " he ejaculated. 
 
 " He is delirious," said Bernard. " We must 
 watch him." 
 
 " My father, what is it?" asked Ruhainah as 
 she kneeled before him. 
 
 " Open the talisman on your neck ! " he 
 exclaimed. 
 
 Ruhainah removed the old leathern talisman 
 which she had worn from her earliest childhood, 
 and handed it to Bernard, who hastily cut it 
 open. There fell on the cot a few leaves from 
 a small Book of Common Prayer, a miniature 
 portrait, and a lock of deep auburn hair the 
 very color of Ruhainah's. Opening the leaves 
 of the little prayer book he read on the first 
 page the name of " Lydia Churton" and in 
 the portrait he detected an unmistakable resem- 
 blance to the devoted girl whose beautiful 
 Christian character had so influenced his life. 
 " Churton ! " Why, that was the name of Sister 
 Lydia's father. Beyond doubt the mysterious
 
 220 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Maid of Herat was none other than Lydia's 
 sister. 
 
 Ruhainah again took the old chiefs hand, 
 the very hand that seventeen years ago had slain 
 her father, and turning to Bernard she pleadingly 
 said : 
 
 " O sir, is it really true ? My father is delir- 
 ious, it is impossible ? It cannot be true ? This 
 hand could never have slain my father?" 
 
 " Ruhainah, it is true it is all true I know 
 your sister, she is still living," said Bernard with 
 great tenderness ; " trust me, and all will be 
 well." 
 
 "Abdullah ! " said Bernard, rousing the dying 
 chieftain to consciousness. " Abdullah ! do 
 you know where Ruhainah's mother died ? " 
 
 "She died in Cabul." 
 
 "Was she killed?" 
 
 " No, she died of fever." 
 
 " Where was she buried ? " 
 
 " I do not know." 
 
 "Did you ever see her?" 
 
 " No, but Hasan the Khyberee had been the 
 captain's orderly." 
 
 "Where was her father buried?"
 
 THE ABD UCTION: 2 2 1 
 
 " I buried him with my own hands outside the 
 Ziyarat at Jagdalak." 
 
 " Can I find the grave ? " 
 
 " Yes. It is covered with a large stone on 
 which there is the sign of the cross. Moslems 
 hate the cross, but I made it for Ruhainah's 
 sake. Ruhainah's father was a Christian." 
 
 "O father, I am still your child ! " Ruhainah 
 pleaded. " I am still your child ! O my father, 
 do not leave me." 
 
 " Forgive me, Ruhainah ! I did the deed in 
 self-defence. God knows I did. But I have 
 tried to do with you even that which is right." 
 
 " Indeed you have, you dear old saint, and if 
 you will only live no other being in this world 
 shall claim Ruhainah as his own." 
 
 " Ruhainah ! kiss me once more. Now listen ! 
 I am dying when I am dead do as the major 
 wishes you, for you will not be safe in this coun- 
 try, you must be under the foreigner's protec- 
 tion." 
 
 "Sir," said Bernard taking Ruhainah's hand, 
 " give us your blessing." 
 
 Abdullah raised both his hands, and placing 
 his right hand on Bernard's head and his left
 
 222 RUHAINAH. 
 
 on Ruhainah's, in broken accents said "The 
 God of Abraham of Ishmael of Mohamed 
 bless you ! " 
 
 " Alak," he continued, " you must spare the 
 foreigner's life. Moses demanded a life for a 
 life Jesus enjoined forgiveness but our 
 Prophet (upon whom be peace), allowed com- 
 pensation. Your compensation, Alak, is the 
 blood of Ruhainah's father." 
 
 Alak stepped forward and presented the hilt 
 of his sword to Bernard and with great emo- 
 tion said, " Major, I now swear to protect you, 
 for I love my father, and if you will not consider 
 it presumption I tell you I love Ruhainah as 
 few Afghans love their sisters. I have always 
 said she was too good for this country." 
 
 The excitement of the conversation com- 
 pletely exhausted the dying man, and he lay in 
 a state of stupor, as Ruhainah bathed his fever- 
 ish forehead with rich perfumes. In the mean- 
 time the faur wives entered the chamber wail- 
 ing in loud lamentation. 
 
 " Leave the place ! " said Alak to the Sheen- 
 waree wife. " This is all your doing." 
 
 "Alak! " said his mother with dignity, "this
 
 THE ABDUCTION. 223 
 
 is not the time, nor the place, for a strife of 
 words. You will soon be chief of Abukilla and 
 then justice can be done. Till then let Nurejan 
 stay." 
 
 "Carry the Rustum of Herat into the guest- 
 chamber ! " said Alak, " for it has never been that 
 the chief of our tribe dies in the seclusion of 
 the harem." 
 
 And the cot on which the dying chieftain lay 
 was carried forth amid the frantic cries of the 
 women of the household. 
 
 Ruhainah stood speechless as she beheld her 
 faithful guardian of seventeen years borne 
 away from her. But as Bernard's eyes met those 
 of the lovely maid, he whispered, " Ruhainah, 
 when all is over I must see you. Trust me. I 
 will be to you all, and even more, than the good 
 old man ever was." 
 
 In the hujrah of the fort a large concourse of 
 people assembled round the couch of the dying 
 chieftain, and, as the old man wrestled with the 
 angel of death, Mullah Ahmad the priest endea- 
 vored to smooth the rough passage by reciting 
 verses from the Koran : 
 
 " Verily the sons of paradise shall be in pos-
 
 224 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 session of eternal joy. They shall have fruits 
 and all their soul's desire. Even peace as a 
 message of mercy from a merciful God ! " 
 
 Then turning the dying man's face toward 
 Mecca, the priest slowly and solemnly recited : 
 
 " Every soul must taste of death, but ye shall 
 be rewarded in the last day." 
 
 " He speaks ! " said Bernard as the old man's 
 lips moved. Alak listened. 
 
 " Yes, he calls for Ruhainah" 
 
 "No," said the priest. "The Rustum of 
 Herat dies as a faithful Moslem should die. 
 He commits the soul to the keeping of the 
 Almighty, his last words are ' Ar-raheem,' 'the 
 Merciful.' He trusts in the mercy of his God." 
 
 " Peace ! " said the village doctor, " the angel 
 of death has departed. Abdullah is dead."
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 LOVE'S QUESTIONS. 
 
 ABDULLAH the Rustum of Herat is dead, 
 henceforth let all men acknowledge 
 Alak as the chief of Abukilla," said Ahmad the 
 priest as he bound the turban of the departed 
 chieftain round the son's head. 
 
 The body of the chief, amid the loud lamen- 
 tation of his friends, was borne from the guest- 
 house to the harem, for the ceremonial ablution. 
 
 " Stay ! " cried the priest ; " coffin him in 
 his blood, for is it not written the blood of the 
 martyr appeareth white as crystal before the 
 throne of God ? " 
 
 Meanwhile Major Bernard retired to his 
 upper chamber, and anxiously awaited the 
 arrival of Ruhainah. 
 
 Rapping at the door Gulandamah the slave 
 girl said, " My mistress is waiting without." 
 Bernard opening the door gently beckoned to
 
 226 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Ruhainah to enter as she stood hesitatingly on 
 the threshold of his room. 
 
 " Be seated, Ruhainah ! do not be afraid of 
 me. My one desire is to be of service to you, 
 my little rose," he said, as he took her hand 
 with warm affection. 
 
 Ruhainah modestly and timidly seated her- 
 self on the ground, when Bernard tenderly raised 
 her to his couch. " No ! my queen, you must not 
 sit on the ground, that is my place, not 
 yours." 
 
 " How good and true he is ! " whispered 
 Gulandamah who had never witnessed such 
 gallantry to her sex before. 
 
 " Silence ! " said Ruhainah, " this is not the 
 time for trifling! " as with downcast eyes she 
 waited for Bernard to speak. 
 
 " Ruhainah ! " he said, looking tenderly and 
 speaking most feelingly to her. " Ruhainah ! 
 you must realize your position. The story 
 which your guardian " (" my father! " she 
 said) " the story which your kind protector 
 told us is true. You are the daughter of an 
 English officer, Captain Churton, who was 
 killed in the Cabul war. Your mother is dead.
 
 LOVE'S QUESTIONS. 227 
 
 She died of fever in the city of Cabul. You 
 have a sister living whose name is Lydia. I 
 know your sister. She took care of me during 
 a severe illness last year. She is in London. 
 She is about six years older than you are. 
 She is very beautiful and very good." 
 
 " Oh, it is all like a dream," she said, as she 
 put her hand to her head in a state of bewil- 
 derment. " It is all so strange. Do you 
 
 love my sister ? " 
 
 " Ruhainah ! you ask me if I love your sister. 
 Yes, I do love her, but not as I love you," he 
 said as he fondly played with her little hands. 
 " O Ruhainah, I have never in the whole 
 course of my life loved anything in this world 
 as I love you. You are very like your sister, 
 but you are more beautiful. Believe me, my 
 little bright rose of the desert, I love you as 
 truly and as passionately as it is possible for a 
 man to love a woman. I have seen hundreds, 
 ah ! thousands of beautiful women, but I 
 have never seen any one so sweet, so lovely 
 as you." 
 
 Ruhainah was silent. She did not even look 
 at Bernard, but she nervously seized the side
 
 228 RUHAINAH. 
 
 of the couch and grasped it convulsively as in 
 great terror, for Gulandamah had left and they 
 were quite alone. 
 
 " Ruhainah ! Ruhainah ! " pleaded Bernard, 
 " do not be afraid of me, but speak ? O ! tell 
 me do you really love me ? " 
 
 " How many wives have you ? " inquired 
 Ruhainah innocently. 
 
 Bernard laughed. " My little dove, we 
 English only marry one wife. But do tell me 
 if you love me ? " 
 
 " You know all," she softly whispered as she 
 placed her head on his shoulder and thrust her 
 little fingers in his long beard, even as she used 
 to do to her old Afghan father. 
 
 " What do I know ? " he asked coaxingly. 
 
 " Why ! Afghan girls of my position do not 
 rush into the room of a man, as I did the other 
 night, both unveiled and unprotected ! If my 
 dear father had seen me, much as he loved me, 
 he would have killed me on the spot, but 
 
 and she raised her soft dreamy loving eyes
 
 LOVE'S QUESTIONS. 229 
 
 and fixed them on Bernard as she softly 
 repeated, " Love casteth #//away." 
 
 " You are an angel ! " said Bernard as he folded 
 her in his strong arms and covered her with 
 kisses. " But come, Ruhainah ! No time must 
 be lost. We must act at once ; you must escape 
 with me, for now the good old chief is dead, 
 neither your life nor mine is safe for a single 
 hour. " We must be married by a Moslem 
 priest, for there is no other. Do you consent to 
 be married to me, Ruhainah, when the 
 funeral is over ? " 
 
 " Why do you ask me? love casteth all away," 
 she said as she clung fondly to him and im- 
 printed one passionate kiss upon his lips. The 
 first she had given to any mortal man save 
 to her old Afghan father. 
 
 Major Bernard led her to the door and 
 requested Gulandamah the slave girl, who had 
 been listening without, to call Mullah Ahmad 
 the priest. He was soon seated in Bernard's 
 presence. 
 
 " You know the secret imparted to me by 
 the dying chieftain," he said addressing the 
 priest. " Ruhainah, his reputed daughter, is an
 
 230 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Englishwoman, and she has been placed under 
 my protection, both by the deceased governor of 
 this fort, and by his son, who succeeds him. I 
 have decided to marry the young lady, and to 
 take her away from here as my wife. Now, 
 can you, as a Mohamedan priest, celebrate 
 the marriage ? " 
 
 " Yes," replied Ahmad, " she is a true Moslem 
 and you are a Nazarene. A marriage between 
 a Moslem and a Nazarene is lawful according 
 to our sacred traditions. If you require proof 
 of this statement I will go to the mosque and 
 produce written authorities." 
 
 " That is not necessary," replied Bernard. 
 "But will you marry us after the funeral of 
 the chief is over ? " 
 
 " Certainly. A fixed dowry, and two wit- 
 nesses are all that is necessary and a. fee, of 
 course." 
 
 " Of course," replied Bernard, " that can be 
 arranged." 
 
 Bernard, once again alone in his chamber 
 reclining on his couch gave himself up to reflec-
 
 LO VES QUESTIONS. 23 I 
 
 tion on the strange and romantic incidents of 
 the last few days. What prophet, sage, or seer 
 could have foretold such a destiny ? By the 
 slaying of Hasan he had virtually accomplished 
 the object of his mission, and he was now about 
 to wed a simple child of nature, one who in 
 every respect, save the accident of her birth, 
 was an Afghan maiden. Then, for a few minutes, 
 his judgment seemed to reason that he had 
 been most indiscreet in choosing for a wife one 
 who, from the peculiar circumstances of her life, 
 could hardly be a fit companion for a man in 
 his position, much less take her place in that 
 circle of society in which he hoped by distin- 
 guished service to figure as an officer of high 
 rank. " I have evidently made an ass of myself," 
 he thought ; " what will the fellows of my regi- 
 ment say when they hear of it? What will 
 government say ? Why, even Garson (slave as he 
 is to the influences of woman), will say I have 
 made a fool of myself, and no mistake ! " 
 
 Such were Bernard's thoughts as he surveyed 
 the situation. But soon the beautiful features 
 and bewitching grace of his Ruhainah rose 
 before him, and, as by a magic touch, dispelled
 
 232 RUHAINAH. 
 
 all doubt. " That girl has very strong indi- 
 viduality of character, she has great natural 
 ability, she has a most affectionate nature. What 
 more do I require ? She is a true child of nature^ 
 and I can train, and mold, and educate her to 
 my own heart's desire." 
 
 And Bernard reveled in the thought of 
 what his Ruhainah might become under 
 the refining influences of her sister's teach- 
 ing. Her strong attachment to the old 
 Afghan chief; the determination with which 
 she had saved him from the poisoned dish ; 
 the resolute manner in which she held the 
 revolver as she expected an attack ; the plucky 
 way she had mounted his charger and ridden 
 home, combined with her natural modesty and 
 elegant grace ; had all a great fascination for a 
 soldier of Bernard's character, and experience. 
 " My darling girl ! " he exclaimed to himself, 
 " my own precious treasure, we shall be very, 
 very happy and no evil genius shall rob me 
 for a moment of the confidence I feel in mak- 
 ing you my own little wife." 
 
 ***** 
 
 But Ruhainah had no such misgivings. She
 
 LOME'S QUESTIONS. 233 
 
 felt she loved Bernard with a passionate love 
 such as her heart had hitherto been a stranger 
 to. She used to think she could never love any 
 one but her dear old father, but now the 
 foreigner had so completely taken possession 
 of her whole being that she could not even 
 realize that her faithful and loving guardian 
 was no more. It was for Bernard she had 
 risked her honor and her life, and now she 
 could, without one single thought of doubt or 
 mistrust, give him her whole heart. Trust him ? 
 of course she would "trust " him, although she 
 knew absolutely nothing of her future. 
 
 " O loved one ! " she exclaimed as she looked 
 in the direction of Bernard's chamber, "O loved 
 one ! I am but a poor little wild flower of 
 the desert, but touch me with thy wizard 
 hand and I will bloom and blossom for thy 
 dear sake. Like a poor dervish will I sit 
 silently at thy feet, and as a devoted pilgrim 
 will I follow thee to the world's end. I am 
 but a disciple, but thou art my murshid ' ; guide 
 me on my way. Nay thou art my kibla of devo- 
 tion to which this poor fluttering heart instinc- 
 tively turns. I am thine."
 
 234 RUHAINAH. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Softly and silently did Ruhainah enter the 
 chamber of death where lay stretched in 
 rigid stillness the shrouded corpse of the old 
 chieftain. Raising the white sheet which covered 
 it, she gazed on the placid features of her faith- 
 ful guardian, and placing her feverish hand 
 on his cold forehead said, O my dear, dear old 
 father, where in this world shall I find love as 
 true as thine ? How thou didst play with me 
 as a little child ! How gently and lovingly did 
 those lips always speak to me, thou brave old 
 warrior ! Thou art now at rest, my father, 
 
 my dear father and yet they say thou art 
 
 not my father. Oh is it possible that that arm 
 killed my father? Oh no, I cannot hate thee." 
 Then raising the sleeve of his left arm she 
 beheld the scar her own father had inflicted. 
 " O merciful God, forgive them both ! " she 
 said and raising her hands in supplication 
 she sunk in an agony of uncontrolled grief 
 on the lifeless corpse of the Rustum of 
 Herat. 
 
 " Don't cry, Ruhainah ! " said Alak, as he ap- 
 proached her and tenderly raised her from
 
 LOVE'S QUESTIONS. 235 
 
 his father's cot. " You must not cry in this 
 way. It is God's will. Ruhainah ! my father 
 loved you more than he loved any of us. His 
 last dying word was ' Ruhainah ' . " 
 
 " O, Alak," she said, " wherever I go I shall 
 always think of you as my brother. You have 
 been very kind to me." 
 
 " No, Ruhainah ! when you leave us you will 
 learn to hate us and despise us even as all your 
 race do." 
 
 " No, Alak ! I never shall, nor will the Major 
 Sahib, for he loves your race. Remember, 
 Alak, the major risked his life twice. Once in 
 avenging the death of his Afghan friend, and 
 again in saving me, whom he regarded simply 
 as an Afghan girl, and as your sister ! No, 
 Alak, my brother ! we shall never hate nor 
 despise the Afghans. 
 
 "But, O, Alak!" she pleaded, placing her 
 hand on his shoulder, " O, Alak, do give up 
 your desperate life." 
 
 "Yes, Ruhainah, I will, if you will stay with 
 us. But when my good angel has departed, the 
 devil will have it all his own way."
 
 236 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " But you will try to do better, won't you, 
 Alak, for Ruhainah's sake ? " 
 
 " Yes, I will try. But remember the death 
 of my father must be avenged. There must 
 be more bloodshed yet."
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 EARTH TO EARTH. 
 
 THE soiled garments, the tearful eyes, and 
 the stealthy steps of Abdullah's house- 
 hold gave a sombre aspect to the old mud fort, 
 as friends and neighbors entered the gateway, 
 in straggling companies, to attend the funeral 
 of the brave old chieftain. 
 
 Alak sat in the court-yard to receive the 
 people, as each in 'turn offered condolence to 
 the bereaved son. 
 
 " Your father was a brave man," said a gray- 
 bearded chieftain. " We fought together in 
 the Cabul war, and many a proud foreigner fell 
 beneath his sword." 
 
 " The Rustum of Herat was ever ready to 
 feed the poor," said a poor ragged priest. 
 " No one was ever sent away empty from the 
 gate of this fort." 
 
 "You must submit to the will of God," said
 
 238 RUHAINAH. 
 
 a venerable man as he seized Alak's hand. 
 " Resignation is the evidence of true faith. 
 We shall all soon pass through the grave to the 
 paradise above." 
 
 "Or slip over the bridge Sirat," said Shahbaz 
 the jester. 
 
 " Ah," said Mullah Ahmad the priest, " it has 
 been well said in the Book, 'Verily, we are 
 God's, and to Him shall we return.' There 
 was not a more devout man than your father 
 to be found in the Moslem world. Five times 
 daily did he pray ; right truly did he fast in the 
 sacred month ; he gave tithes of his goods ; he 
 made the pilgrimage to the sacred city on foot ; 
 and now, fortified by the faith of Islam, he 
 will get easily over the narrow bridge and 
 have a joyful entrance into the courts of para- 
 dise." 
 
 " Let us pray for the repose of his soul ! " said 
 Alak. And every hand was raised in silent 
 supplication. 
 
 The wailing lamentations of the women 
 within the harem intimated that the time had 
 come when the chieftain's corpse must be car- 
 ried forth to burial.
 
 EARTH TO EARTH. 239 
 
 " Carry the dead quick to his grave," said the 
 Prophet of Arabia, " for if he be an evil doer 
 the sooner you get rid of him the better, and if 
 he be a saint, why keep him out of paradise? " 
 And so they bore the corpse of the chief of 
 Abukilla quickly to his last home. On a green 
 sward outside the burial ground they arranged 
 themselves in five rows facing the body of the 
 deceased, and Alak, as the next of kin, called 
 out, " Let the prayers begin." 
 
 The priest, taking his position, faced the 
 head of the corpse, and in solemn plaintive 
 strains, recited : 
 
 " God is great ! 
 
 " O, God, Thou art holy ! 
 
 " Praise be to Thee ! 
 
 " Great is Thy name ! 
 
 " Great is Thy power ! 
 
 " Great is Thy praise ! 
 
 " There is no God but Thee ! 
 
 " O God, forgive our living and our dead, 
 those who are present and those who are absent, 
 our men, our women, and our children. Keep 
 us all in the faith of Islam ! "
 
 240 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Saluting the good angel on his right the priest 
 said: 
 
 " Peace and mercy be on thee ! " 
 
 And extending the same courtesy to the evil 
 angel on the left : 
 
 " Peace and mercy be on thee. " 
 
 " The prayers are over," said Alak. And large 
 trays of food were distributed to the poor, as 
 the friends and neighbors pressed forward to 
 offer consolation to the sorrowing son. 
 
 Only a few of the deceased's nearest relatives 
 carried the body to the grave, and Alak and 
 Akbar, the faithful slave, gently raised the 
 shrouded figure and placed it in the niche at the 
 bottom of the grave. 
 
 " From earth God created you and to earth 
 does He call you back, and from the earth will 
 He raise you at the last day," exclaimed Akbar 
 the slave as he loosened the shroud and filled 
 up the recess which contained all that was 
 mortal of the Afghan warrior. 
 
 Bernard stood at some distance from the spot, 
 and watched the solemn service with intense 
 interest. The service over and the grave closed, 
 Major Bernard accompanied Alak to the
 
 EARTH TO EARTH. 241 
 
 fort. Having walked some forty paces Alak 
 stopped, and devoutly raised his hands in prayer. 
 
 "For whom are you praying?" inquired Ber- 
 nard. 
 
 " For the poor old man, " whispered Alak ; 
 " for now it is that those two angels of fearful 
 countenances are making him sit up in his grave 
 and are putting him through an examination." 
 
 " Never fear, " said Bernard with a sup- 
 pressed smile, "your good and benevolent 
 father will get through it all right." 
 
 " I am not certain of that," replied Alak 
 solemnly, " for I must tell you that Abdullah of 
 Herat had done many a dark deed." 
 
 "Surely," said Bernard, "his generous treat- 
 ment of Ruhainah will atone for a few mis- 
 deeds." 
 
 "Yes, I believe it will. Ruhainah wants me 
 to reform and to follow in my father's foot- 
 steps, and I believe I shall. The Rustum of 
 Herat for many years lived the violent life of 
 an Afghan soldier, but he died the death of a 
 martyred saint."
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IS IT LAWFUL? 
 
 THE fort of Abukilla was no longer a place 
 of safety for either Bernard or Ruhainah. 
 But a serious difficulty presented itself. Would 
 " Sister Lydia," who had strict views regarding 
 such questions, recognize a Moslem marriage ? 
 
 Major Bernard would have given much to 
 have got within telegraphic communication 
 with some legal authority on the subject, for 
 great as was his love, the passionate love he 
 bore for the fair girl who had so enslaved his 
 heart, he felt how important it was for her 
 future that their marriage should be perfectly 
 legal. " Sister Lydia" with her strong religious 
 feelings would never forgive him if it were 
 otherwise. 
 
 To consult Ruhainah on such a question was 
 useless, and the Moslem priest had already given 
 his legal opinion from his own standpoint.
 
 7S IT LA WFUL ? 243 
 
 " Necessity knows no law," said Bernard to 
 himself, as he thought over the subject ; " it 
 must be done ; for, apart from my own feelings, 
 the safety of one of my own countrywomen 
 depends upon the marriage. Ruhainah can 
 leave this place only as my wife." 
 
 " You say you can perform a legal marriage 
 between Ruhainah and myself?" said Bern- 
 ard to the priest, who had just entered the 
 room. 
 
 " All that is necessary," replied the learned 
 man, " is the consent of both parties, a dowry, 
 and two witnesses." 
 
 " And a. fee ? I think you said ? " 
 
 "Yes, and a fee, that is an important consid- 
 eration in the legality of a marriage," said 
 Ahmad with feigned solemnity, as his eyes 
 twinkled with a roguish smile. 
 
 As they were discussing the subject, Alak 
 entered the chamber quickly followed by Ruh- 
 ainah and her slave girl. Bernard requested 
 the priest to proceed with the ceremony 
 without delay. 
 
 " We shall require two witnesses ! " said the 
 priest.
 
 244 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " You have two, here are Alak and Gulanda- 
 mah," said Bernard. 
 
 " Women only count as half," said the learned 
 man. " There must be two women and one 
 man." 
 
 Alak called his mother. 
 
 " But this is not right," said the priest. " Gul- 
 andamah is a slave and legally counts for only 
 half a woman." 
 
 Alak summoned Akbar. 
 
 " But Akbar is a slave and only counts for 
 half a man," said the priest. 
 
 Bernard became impatient. "Come, my 
 learned friend, I think you have enough, how- 
 ever callShahbaz the jester to make sure." 
 
 "Now for the dowry," said the priest. 
 
 " With all my worldly goods I thee endow," 
 said Bernard translating from his English 
 prayer book. 
 
 "That won't do," said the priest. "You must 
 mention a specified sum." 
 
 " Put down the largest possible sum," replied 
 Bernard, much amused at the priest's persis- 
 tency. 
 
 " Well, then, say one kintdr."
 
 IS IT LA WFUL ? 245 
 
 " How much is that ? " 
 
 " The learned say it is as much gold as you 
 can put into a cowhide." 
 
 " She is worth that," said Bernard pressing 
 Ruhainah's hand tenderly. " Say two kintars" 
 
 11 Do you consent?" 
 
 " I consent ! I consent ! I consent ! " repeated 
 Bernard with such fervor as excited the amuse- 
 ment of the witnesses, for he remembered the 
 formula used at Shaidy's wedding. 
 
 Ruhainah was silent. 
 
 " Say, yes, my little rose," said Bernard. 
 
 " She is afraid," said Gulandamah, " she 
 wants to say it, but she can't." 
 
 But Bernard felt she said it with her eyes. 
 
 " Silence gives consent by all the legal decis- 
 ions of our law," said the priest solemnly ; " if 
 you want authority for this I can quote it." 
 
 " Proceed, Mullah Ahmad, I am fully con- 
 vinced of your probity and learning in such 
 matters." 
 
 The priest, turning to the witnesses, said in 
 measured tones : 
 
 " I declare the foreigner named Bernard, and 
 Ruhainah, the reputed daughter of Abdullah,
 
 246 RUHAINAH. 
 
 upon whom the aforesaid foreigner has fixed a 
 dowry of two kintars, to be man and wife. 
 A meen." 
 
 " Ameen ! " exclaimed Gulandamah ; and all 
 the witnesses said Ameen ! 
 
 11 What next ! " inquired Bernard, observing 
 that the priest hesitated. 
 
 "That is all that is absolutely necessary. But 
 let us pray," and the priest raised his hands in 
 supplication : 
 
 " O great God! grant that mutual love may 
 reign between these two persons, even as it did 
 exist between Adam and Eve, and Abraham 
 and Sarah, Joseph and " 
 
 "Stop," said Bernard. "With your permis- 
 sion, reverend sir, we will finish the prayer in 
 London," and he placed in the good man-'s 
 hand a liberal fee. 
 
 " Anyhow," said Alak, " you are man and 
 wife and I give you my blessing. I always 
 thought Ruhainah was too good for us wild 
 Afghans." 
 
 The wedding over, Major Bernard at once
 
 75 IT LA WfUL ? 247 
 
 proceeded to arrange for his departure, and sent 
 for Nand Ram the shopkeeper, as one best 
 acquainted with the requirements of the 
 journey. 
 
 " You old villain," he said, as he seized the 
 Hindu by the ear, " you are of a truth the 
 biggest traitor I have met even in this country." 
 
 " Don't say that, Major Sahib, for did you 
 not find your horse ready saddled even as I 
 promised?" 
 
 " True. But why would you not allow me to 
 reveal the plot ? " 
 
 " O honored sir ! what is more precious even 
 to a Hindu banker than his life ? Had I re- 
 vealed the plot, why this polluted spirit of mine 
 would now be animating the foul carcass of one 
 of the lower animals of creation. A dog ! or a 
 donkey ! 
 
 " Or a snake ! " added Bernard. 
 
 " Be grateful, my dear sir, to your poor 
 slave, Nand Ram, for had he not saddled your 
 horse and revealed the plot, you would not now 
 be in possession of the Fair Maid of Herat." 
 
 "But you have sacrificed the life of your 
 noble patron."
 
 248 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " I gave him a quick passage to paradise. 
 Abdullah of Herat had done many a violent 
 deed, but he died like a martyr and was buried 
 like a saint ; and now there will be a shrine 
 erected on his grave, and in ages to come 
 miracles will be wrought at the martyr's tomb ! " 
 And the old Hindu chuckled as he contem- 
 plated the canonization of the Rustum of 
 Herat ! 
 
 " Major Sahib ! " he continued, " people never 
 give Nand Ram credit for a single good deed. 
 But just you think of what I have accom- 
 plished. Musa, the Sheenwaree tyrant, has 
 been slain ; the old sinner who ruled this fort 
 has been made a martyred saint ; you have got 
 possession of the most beautiful girl in the 
 whole country; and the coffers of your humble 
 servant have been vastly enriched," and the 
 oily old scoundrel placed his hand upon his 
 breast, and bowed with abject submission. 
 "What are your commands, most noble sir? " 
 
 A covered litter on a camel was arranged for, 
 and the banker undertook to supply bills of 
 credit upon Cabul and other cities on the way, 
 for he was well known in mercantile circles as a
 
 IS IT LA WFUL ? 249 
 
 man of great wealth. Bernard decided to start 
 for Cabul that very night. 
 
 " Bertram ! " for she had soon learned his 
 name, "Bertram!" said Ruhainah, "do let me 
 visit the grave of my father, and say farewell 
 to my little sister Shaidy before we leave." 
 
 " It is impossible, my darling. Every 
 moment's delay is dangerous. And remember, 
 Ruhainah, my own little wife, your father's 
 grave is in the Jagdalak Pass, and your sister is 
 in London." 
 
 " Bertram ! you are angry with me. But I 
 tell' you, I must then have two fathers, for 
 neither time nor even your devoted love 
 shall ever efface from my memory the recol- 
 lection of my dear old father, the Rustum of 
 Herat." 
 
 " Ruhainah, my noble wife ! I am not angry 
 with you, and I will promise with this kiss " 
 (and he folded her fondly in his arms), " I will 
 promise henceforth that whatever happens, as 
 long as I live, we will honor and revere the 
 memory of the brave old Afghan, who, for
 
 250 RUHA1NAH. 
 
 seventeen years, loved you with even more than 
 a father's love." 
 
 " Then, Bertram," she said, looking sweetly 
 in his face, " we shall never quarrel." 
 
 "You are a brave, honest girl, and I am quite 
 certain I do not even now realize what a 
 treasure God has given me." 
 
 " Oh, Bertram, I am so ignorant. But you 
 will teach me, won't you ? Tell me more of 
 God, and about His Prophet (upon whom be 
 peace), and teach me to read the blessed 
 Koran." 
 
 " Good Heavens ! " exclaimed Bernard to 
 himself, " what would Sister Lydia say to this ? " 
 
 " Ruhainah, my good little wife, do you not 
 remember that your dear old father always 
 said he had dedicated you to ' the Prophet 
 Jesus'?" 
 
 " Upon whom be peace ! " said Ruhainah, 
 shocked at the careless way in which Bernard 
 uttered the sacred name. 
 
 " Now your Sister Lydia is a disciple of the 
 Lord Jesus, and she will instruct you in the way 
 more perfectly than I can." 
 
 " But you must teach me. I want to learn
 
 IS IT LA WFUL ? 251 
 
 that religion which has made you so good, and 
 so noble, and so brave, Bertram ! " 
 
 " But, my darling, I must tell you that even 
 I had to learn the road to God from Sister 
 Lydia's lips. Ruhainah, my precious treasure ! 
 I will teach you one sentence Sister Lydia 
 taught me. Now, you won't forget it, will you ? " 
 And he gently caressed her and* smoothed her 
 beautiful tresses. 
 
 " I will never forget anything you tell me, 
 Bertram," she said, raising her eyes to his in 
 trustful confidence. 
 
 " Well, then, the words are these, ' We walk 
 by faith and not by sight ' . " 
 
 "But what \% faith? " 
 
 " Ruhainah," he said solemnly, " you have 
 trusted yourself to me, and I am now going to 
 lead you forth into a great wide world you 
 have never seen that is faith." 
 
 " Yes, Bertram, I think I understand you. 
 So will I trust God." 
 
 Having arranged with Nand Ram for a spec- 
 ial messenger to Peshawur Major Bernard wrote
 
 252 RUHAINAH. 
 
 a hurried letter to Captain Garson, the major 
 of brigade, explaining that circumstances had 
 compelled him to proceed to Cabul and that he 
 would return to England by the way of Herat 
 and Meshed. But enclosed was a more lengthy 
 note for Ruhainah's sister. 
 
 "FORT ABUKILLA, Jan. 26, 1860. 
 " MY DEAR SISTER LYDIA, for I believe I can 
 now claim you as my sister, it has often been 
 said that ' truth is stranger than fiction ' .' I 
 came to this out-of-the-way place in the Afghan 
 hills expecting an untimely, or a timely, grave. 
 But I have found a wife instead. Yes, a wife ! 
 And that wife is none other than your sister. 
 Your father, Captain Churton, was killed in 
 the Jagdalak Pass on Jan. 12, 1842, and your 
 dear mother, Lydia Churton, it appears, died 
 of fever in Cabul sometime previous. They 
 left a little babe six months old. This infant's 
 life was saved by a fine Afghan chieftain named 
 Abdullah. He took the child to Herat and 
 resided there, and only about a year ago came 
 to this place. It was here that I discovered 
 your sister. Round her neck was a talisman 
 containing your mother's portrait a lock of
 
 IS IT LAWFUL? 253 
 
 auburn hair and a few pages from the Book of 
 Common Prayer, on one of which was written, 
 evidently by your father's hand, your mother's 
 name. Ruhainah, for that is your sister's name, 
 (for I cannot find that she has been baptized), is 
 a beautiful creature, a real child of nature, as 
 pure in thought and life as the very mountain 
 air she breathes. 
 
 " She is very pretty and very graceful. She 
 has long tresses of deep auburn hair, the 
 very color of your mother's, the most capti- 
 vating eyes I have ever gazed upon, and her 
 disposition is simply lovely. The devotion she 
 shows for the old Afghan chief, whom she had 
 for seventeen years regarded as her father, is a 
 sort of thing. one doesn't meet with in this 
 unromantic age. The poor old chief is dead, 
 or I really believe Ruhainah would never leave 
 him, even for me. I could tell you much more, 
 but I have not time, for we are leaving for 
 Cabul at once. The whole story is simply a 
 fairy tale written with God's own finger. I 
 know your first anxiety will be regarding her 
 religious belief. As far as I can discover she 
 has very little. The old chieftain dedicated
 
 254 RUHAINAH. 
 
 her, as he said, ' to the Prophet Jesus,' as he 
 used to speak of the Saviour, and he seems 
 never to have taught her anything regarding 
 his own religion. Ruhainah sends her salaam, 
 which is the Oriental expression for sending 
 love, 'although it really means peace. I will 
 write more from Cabul. But till we meet 
 believe me 
 
 " Your truly affectionate brother, 
 
 " BERTRAM BERNARD. 
 
 " P. S. I forgot to tell you that we have been 
 married by a Moslem priest. Is it lawful ? "
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION. 
 
 days of weary travelling (for 
 X Major Bernard had to regulate his speed 
 and that of his mounted escort to the slow 
 measured steps of the stately Bactrian drome- 
 dary which bore in regal state his lovely bride 
 and her faithful little maid Gulandamah) 
 brought them to Gundamak,so celebrated in Af- 
 ghan history as the scene of the last desperate 
 struggle with the British foe, and, still more 
 recently, of the treaty which ushered in a 
 fourth Afghan war. 
 
 Here were yet seen the bleached bones of 
 the English soldiers who fell as the remnant of 
 a vanquished army, and the Afghan captain of 
 the escort related with pardonable pride the 
 fact that of the whole invading force only one 
 Englishman returned to tell the tale. " You 
 call it murder, and assassination, and treachery ! "
 
 256 RUHAINAH. 
 
 said the Afghan captain, " but, sir, you must 
 remember that now we are an enfeebled and 
 uncivilized race. But the traditions of our 
 country remind us of the glorious deeds of 
 our armies when led by such generals as 
 Mahmud of Ghuznee and Ahmad Shah. Then 
 it was that we pressed down upon Hindustan 
 as conquerors and held India very much as you 
 do at the present time. Our august master 
 the Ameer Dost Mohamed, is always remind- 
 ing us that when we become once more 
 united under a leader, the Afghan people will 
 again prove that they are a nation of men. 
 You English have yet to learn this ! " the old 
 warrior said with great warmth as he galloped 
 his horse over the ghastly remnant of a once 
 victorious army. 
 
 " My friend," said Bernard, " I am very 
 much of your opinion. For I believe there 
 is still a grand destiny in store for your 
 nation." 
 
 " The Major Sahib is almost an Afghan him- 
 self," exclaimed a voice from the drapery on the 
 dromedary. 
 
 It was none other than Gulandamah who
 
 WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION. 257 
 
 spoke, prompted, as Bernard believed, by the 
 patriotic Maid of Herat. 
 
 " You are quite right," said Bernard as he 
 caught the eye of his darling wife peeping 
 through the awning of her somewhat contracted 
 abode on the camel's back. " I am a real 
 Afghan ! " 
 
 Descending to the bed of a mountain stream, 
 the next day, they arrived at Jagdalak, a for- 
 midable defile about two miles in length exceed- 
 ingly narrow and closed in by lofty hills. It 
 was here that seventeen years ago Ruhainah's 
 father and eleven other British officers were 
 massacred by Afghan soldiers. 
 
 Remembering the dying words of Abdullah, 
 Major Bernard and his young wife visited the 
 Ziyarat near the village, and there, true to the 
 old man's words, they found a solitary grave 
 some distance from the cemetery. It was 
 covered with loose pebbles, and across the grave 
 had been hastily thrown a large oblong slab on 
 the face of which Bernard traced the faint out- 
 lines of a sign of the cross as it had been 
 roughly and hastily scratched with some sharp 
 pointed weapon. Most probably it was done
 
 258 RUHAINAH. 
 
 with the chieftain's dagger. Perhaps the very 
 dagger with which he had slain Ruhainah's 
 father. The grave was beyond doubt that of 
 Captain Churton. 
 
 "My poor father !" exclaimed Ruhainah as she 
 stood over the grave leaning on Bernard's arm. 
 " I never knew him, but look at the sign of the 
 cross. That was done by one who loved me as 
 tenderly as a mother" 
 
 " Yes, Ruhainah, the good old man undoubt- 
 edly made that sign, so hateful to Moslems, for 
 your sake" 
 
 " Let us pray for my English father's soul ! " 
 said Ruhainah as she raised her hands in sup- 
 plication. 
 
 " Well ! my dear girl, I am not sure that our 
 Christian religion allows that sort of thing. But 
 \ve will ask Sister Lydia." 
 
 Three more days of tedious marching brought 
 them to Cabul, the capital of Afghanistan, where 
 they at once sought the hospitality of the 
 Armenian Christians. 
 
 These Armenians occupied quarters in the 
 well known citadel, the Bala Hisar, where they 
 have been a little community ever since the days
 
 WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION. 259 
 
 of Nadir Shah, chiefly supporting themselves 
 by the manufacture of wine and spirits. 
 
 In the midst of their crowded dwellings, and 
 entirely secluded from public view, was their 
 little church, a sacred edifice, which, although 
 dedicated to Christian worship, had escaped the 
 ravages of successive Mohamedan conquerors, 
 for amid the dynastic changes which have so 
 frequently occurred the Armenians of Cabul 
 have always enjoyed freedom of religious wor- 
 ship. 
 
 Old Marcus, the head of the family, received 
 Bernard and Ruhainah with great kindness and 
 affection, for the little community had remem- 
 bered with gratitude the kind treatment they 
 had received from the British invaders when 
 they held the Cabul capital. 
 
 " Yes," the old man said, as Bernard spoke to 
 him of the death of Ruhainah's mother," the dear 
 lady died in this very room. It was two days 
 after the massacre of the British embassy. I 
 and my wife, since dead, were present at her 
 death. Her husband, the captain, was also 
 with us, but he was killed a few weeks after- 
 ward in the retreat from Cabul. She was a good
 
 260 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Christian, sir, and often prayed in our little 
 church. Only two days before her death they 
 brought a clergyman, and he baptized their 
 little babe. 
 
 "Come to the church, sir, and I will show 
 you the very font in which the child was 
 baptized. That child must surely be the lady 
 I now see before me. It is seventeen years or 
 more since those terrible times." 
 
 Bernard and Ruhainah followed Marcus as 
 he conducted them to the church. It was a 
 small vaulted building lighted from the roof. 
 The dirty whitewashed walls were decorated 
 with numerous colored pictures of the virgin 
 and the saints, and at the east end of the sanc- 
 tuary was a small altar covered with a richly 
 embroidered cloth worked, as Marcus as- 
 sured them, by the ladies of his family. On 
 the altar was placed a high wooden cross and 
 six gilt candlesticks. Suspended over the 
 altar was a bright red lamp still burning even 
 at noonday. Before the altar were offerings 
 of flowers, sweetmeats, and talismans, pre- 
 sented by the women, some of whom were still 
 prostrating in the act of devotion.
 
 WI THO UT THE BENEDICTION. 2 6 1 
 
 " Look here ! " whispered Marcus, not to 
 disturb the prayers of the devout, " look here, 
 sir, this is the font in which Captain Churton's 
 little girl was baptized," and he showed them 
 a rudely carved stone basin in a deep recess on 
 the south side of the building. 
 
 " Did the chaplain leave any written record 
 of the baptism?" inquired Bernard. 
 
 "Yes, he wrote something in our service- 
 book, but as none of us can read English we do 
 not understand it." 
 
 Bernard opened the old missal, a precious 
 relict of Armenian caligraphy (for it had been 
 written by a scribe on Mount Ararat in the 
 early part of the sixteenth century), and on 
 the last fly-leaf he read : 
 
 " I herewith certify that I baptized Christina, 
 the infant daughter of Edward and Lydia 
 Churton, this 23rd day of December, 1841. 
 "A. F. GOODMAN, 
 " Chaplain to the forces." 
 
 " December 23rd ! " said Bernard, " why, 
 that was the day of the assassination of the 
 embassy; and Ruhainah's mother died on 
 Christmas Day."
 
 262 RUHAINAH. 
 
 Then Ruhainah was not a Moslem, but a 
 baptized Christian, and the marriage of two 
 Christians by a Mohamedan priest could by 
 no possibility be a legal marriage. After 
 all, he and Ruhainah were not really man and 
 wife! 
 
 " Marcus, have you any Armenian priest in 
 Cabul? " 
 
 " No," said Marcus, " we have not had a 
 priest in Cabul for fifty years. The last time 
 the blessed sacrament was celebrated in this 
 church was by Joseph Wolf, the missionary. 
 A very remarkable man was the l Great Yusuf, 
 as we still call him." 
 
 " Then how do you get married? " 
 
 " Oh, that is all right," replied Marcus, 
 " I went to Persia some years ago and 
 the archbishop of Julfa ordained me deacon, 
 so I can perform the marriages of our people." 
 
 " My dear friend," said Bernard, " you are 
 the very man we want. You must marry me 
 to Ruhainah at once, for we have only been 
 married by a Mohamedan priest, and now 
 it is certain that Ruhainah is a Christian, 
 I am afraid our marriage is not lawful."
 
 WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION, 263 
 
 " Sir, I can celebrate your marriage any hour 
 you wish, but as a deacon I cannot give the 
 benediction," said Marcus, very solemnly. 
 
 "Oh, never mind the benediction, friend 
 Marcus, but for heaven's sake marry us as soon 
 as you can, for what will her sister say ? " 
 
 The service was long and tedious. Not a 
 single word of it was understood by either 
 bride or bridegroom. But there, close to the 
 very spot where, seventeen years ago, Chris- 
 tina Churton had been baptized into the Chris- 
 tian church, she was now, after an eventful life, 
 united in the bonds of holy wedlock. As they 
 rose from their knees " without the benediction," 
 Bernard kissed his wife and said, " After all, 
 the good old chieftain was right, for here it 
 was that you were dedicated to the prophet 
 Jesus." 
 
 "Yes," said Ruhainah, "I am a Christian, it 
 is true, but, Bertram, you must teach me. I 
 am the Tdlib and you are my Mursliid, Let the 
 disciple learn at the feet of her guide" 
 
 "No, my own precious little darling, I am as 
 ignorant as you are. But your sister has often 
 peeped through the golden gates, and she, if
 
 264 RUHAINAH. 
 
 anyone can, will guide you on your way to 
 heaven." 
 
 Major Bernard was received very graciously 
 by the Ameer, but requested to make his stay 
 as short as possible. " The strong feeling of 
 antipathy to the English race still exists 
 among my people, and I do not consider 
 your life safe in this city," said his highness 
 at a private interview. And even old Marcus 
 advised them to hasten their departure, for he 
 had heard that Ruhainah's position as the wife 
 of .an English officer had already awakened 
 great interest and curiosity among the Cabul 
 princes, for the far famed beauty of the myste- 
 rious Maid of Herat had often been the subject 
 of idle gossip at the Cabul court. 
 
 But, before they left the city, Bernard request- 
 ed Marcus to conduct them to the Armenian 
 cemetery, so that Ruhainah might visit her 
 mother's grave. The little cemetery was sadly 
 neglected and still bore evidences of recent 
 desecration, for the crosses on the gravestones 
 had, without one single exception, been de-
 
 WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION. 265 
 
 stroyed by fanatical Afghans. The grave of 
 Lydia Churton was unmarked save by a low 
 mound of earth, but it was next to that of 
 Georgius, the priest, who had died fifty years 
 ago, and Marcus remembered the spot. 
 
 "Ah, madam!" he said, addressing Ruhainah, 
 " it was a sad gloomy day when we placed your 
 dear mother in this grave. We buried her by 
 torch-light as the drums beat the alarm, for the 
 city was in open rebellion." 
 
 " Was my father present ? " she inquired. 
 
 " No, he could not stay ; there were only four 
 of us here. There was not one of her own race 
 to shed a tear over her grave at her burial ! Ah ! 
 those were indeed terrible times for the English. 
 The Lord God of battles forsook your hosts and 
 you were scattered like sheep," he said, address- 
 ing Bernard. 
 
 " My poor mother ! " said Ruhainah, kneeling 
 by the grave, " if no tears were shed over your 
 grave then, a daughter has lived to drop one 
 now. Oh may the compassionate and merciful 
 God help you !" 
 
 "You are but a small community," said Ber- 
 nard, addressing Marcus.
 
 266 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " Very small ; not more than thirty souls. 
 But we are treated kindly, for the Ameer's son, 
 Azim, has married one of our Armenian daugh- 
 ters." 
 
 " Has she embraced Islam ? " 
 
 " No, she is still a Christian." 
 
 " Bertram!" said Ruhainah, placing her hand 
 lovingly on his shoulder, " tell me, are there 
 many Christians in England?" 
 
 " Yes, my little rose, I believe there are, 
 and, thank God, there are no Mohamedans." 
 
 " How bitterly you speak of the Moslems. 
 Will no Mohamedans go to Heaven?" 
 
 " Darling ! you really must not ask me such 
 questions. I know more of Afghan poetry 
 than I do of Christian theology, but we will ask 
 your sister." 
 
 " Oh Bertram ! I wish you could tell me, for, 
 do you know, I can never be happy in Heaven 
 if my dear father, the Rustum of Herat, is not 
 there." 
 
 Bernard smiled at her childish simplicity and 
 fondly kissed her. 
 
 " Bertram, listen ! " she said, looking straight 
 into his eyes with determination, "you are now
 
 WITHOUT THE BENEDICTION. 267 
 
 going to take me into a new country and 
 among a strange people, but you must never 
 ask me to forget the old Afghan chieftain," and 
 she rested her head fondly against him and 
 dropped a silent tear. 
 
 " Ruhainah, it is indeed true that you are 
 entering on a new existence, and so am I, but 
 always remember this, my sweet little rose of 
 the desert, that when I first loved you it was 
 not as Christina, the child of an English cap- 
 tain, but as Ruhainah, the daughter of an 
 Afghan chief."
 
 M 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 Y story is told. For the life of Ruhainah, as 
 an Afghan maiden, belongs to history, 
 while that of Christina Bernard, as an English 
 lady, must not yet be written. 
 
 Do you ask how I became possessed with 
 such a narrative ? 
 
 I will tell you. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1876, that I was seated 
 under an old yew tree in the pretty village 
 churchyard of Brankling, in the south of 
 England, sketching its quaint old church, when 
 a fine, handsome man, some sixty years of age, 
 with a military bearing, entered the church- 
 yard. His wife, a lady of remarkable grace and 
 beauty, but evidently some years younger, 
 rested fondly on his arm, as they passed along 
 the gravelled walk to a little child's grave on 
 the south side of the church. 
 
 The lady knelt at the grave, and seemed to 
 engage in silent prayer. Then rising, she took
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 269 
 
 from her husband a wreath of primroses, and 
 gently and lovingly placed it on the white 
 marble cross. 
 
 When they left the churchyard, I went to 
 the old sexton, who was digging a grave close 
 by, and inquired who the visitors were. 
 
 " Why, them be Sir Bertram Bernard and his 
 lady. Very first rate folks, sir. Lor' bless your 
 soul ! they was mighty fond of that ere child, sir. 
 Why, it be just sixteen year come next May 
 since I buried him in this very spot. But when- 
 ever Sir Bertram and his lady visits this here 
 place they comes to this youngster's grave, and 
 puts a lot of flowers on it, and they always 
 gives me a sovereign for a taking a care of it. 
 
 " Look here, just you look here," the old man 
 said, passing over to the little grave, " did you 
 ever in the whole course of your life see such an 
 outlandish name as that?" and he pointed to 
 the cross on which I read : 
 
 ABDULLAH, 
 
 THE BELOVED SON 
 OF 
 
 CHRISTINA AND BERTRAM BERNARD.
 
 270 RU HA IN AH. 
 
 "Abdullah ! Just think of that new fangled 
 name! But it be just like these gentry folks, 
 sir. They be all giving up all our good old 
 English names, and taking to the French. My 
 name is John, sir, and so was my father's before 
 me. There's no nonsense in a name like mine. 
 'Scuse me, sir, but the rector's a coming." 
 
 As the clergyman came up the pathway, I 
 raised my hat, and inquired who Sir Bertram 
 Bernard was. 
 
 " He is one of our most distinguished offi- 
 cers," replied the rector. " He is now a member 
 of the Indian Council, and people say, but one 
 never knows the truth of such stories, that Lady 
 Bernard is the inspiring genius of Lord Bea- 
 consfield's Afghan policy : and that it was Sir 
 Bertram who suggested the ' Scientific Frontier.' 
 Lady Bernard is known as one of the most 
 lovely and fascinating women in London 
 society. If you want to hear Lady Bernard's 
 story, you must step into the rectory, for you 
 see I am not a young man, and I feel the 
 cold." 
 
 The rector, who was a genial old gentleman, 
 took me into his snug little study, and there by
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 271 
 
 a bright fire told me the interesting narrative of 
 "Ruhainah, the Maid of Herat." 
 
 " I know the whole country," he said, " for I 
 was an ensign in the Afghan war." 
 
 " I thought only one Englishman, Dr. Bry- 
 den, lived to tell the tale, and all the rest were 
 massacred ? " 
 
 " No, there were about eighteen officers and 
 ladies held as hostages, and I was one of them. 
 Having fought my country's battles, I went to 
 Oxford and entered a higher service." 
 
 " Have Sir Bertram and his wife received 
 tidings of Alak? " 
 
 ' Yes, the poor fellow was shot in the 
 Khyber." 
 
 "And what became of the sweet little 
 Shaidy?" 
 
 " She eloped with Yusuf, and they were both 
 slain by the enraged husband." 
 
 "And Gulandamah, the little slave girl?" 
 
 " She, of course, obtained her freedom from 
 her mistress before they parted. She became 
 the favorite wife of the commander-in-chief of 
 the Afghan army, who had been himself a 
 slave."
 
 272 RUHAINAH. 
 
 " And is ' Sister Lydia ' living ? ' " 
 
 " Yes, for some years she devoted herself to 
 the education of her sister, and especially to 
 her religious instruction." 
 
 "But I understood you to say Lady Bernard 
 was a lady of fashion ? " 
 
 " I said her ladyship was lovely and fascina- 
 ting, but these qualities are surely not incom- 
 patible with true piety." 
 
 THE END.
 
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 I My Ten Years' Imprisonment. By SILVIO PELLICO. 
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 I I -She Stoops to Conquer, and The Good-Matured Man. 
 
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 She Wisdom of The Ancients. By LORD BACON. 
 atural History Of SelbOrne. By GILBERT WHITE. 
 The Lady Of the Lake. By SIR WALTER SCOTT. 
 
 Travels In the Interior of Africa. ByMuNcoPARK. 
 
 The History Of Egypt. By HERODOTUS. 
 
 A Voyage Round the World. B y LORD ANSON. 
 
 Selected Voyages. From RICHARD HAKLUYT'S COLLECTION. 
 
 The Christian Year. ByjoHNKEBLE. 
 
 Selected Philosophical Writings. By LORD BOLINGBROKE. 
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