tion; but the Governor shakes his
head and orders them away, as though fearful even to have such a
proposition entertained. All the time the sepoys are endeavoring to make
themselves understood, every Afghan present regards my face with the
keenest scrutiny; so glaringly evident are their suspicions that the
situation becomes too much for my gravity. The sepoys grin broadly in
response, whereupon the pugilistic-faced captain of the Governor's guard
remonstrates with them for their levity, by roughly making them stand in
a more respectful attitude. I dislike very much to see them ordered off,
for they are evidently anxious to champion my cause; moreover, it would
have been interesting to have accompanied them through to Quetta.
Understanding thoroughly by this time that I am not to be allowed to go
through by way of Giriskh and Kandahar, and dreading the probability of
being taken back into Persia, I ask permission to travel south to Jowain
and the frontier of Beloochistan. The Afghan-Beloochi boundary is not
more than fifty or sixty miles south of Furrah, and while it would be
difficult to say what advantage would be gained by reaching there, it
would at all events be some consolation to find myself at liberty.

The interview ends, however, without much additional light being shed on
their intentions; but the advent of more sweetmeats shortly after the
Governor's departure, and the unexpected luxury of a bottle of Shiraz
wine, heightens the conviction that my own wishes in the matter are to be
politely ignored. The red-jackets patrol my bungalow till dark, when they
are relieved by soldiers in dark-blue kilts, loose Turkish pantalettes,
and big turbans. I sit on the threshold during the evening, watching
their soldierly bearing with much interest; on their part they comport
themselves as though proudly conscious of making a good impression. I
judge they have been especially ordered to acquit themselves well in my
presence, and so impress me, whether I am English or Russian, with a
sense of their military proficiency. All about the garden red-coated
guards are seen prostrating themselves toward Mecca in the prosecution of
their evening devotions. Full of reflections on the exciting events of
the day and the strange turn affairs have taken, I stretch myself on a
Turkoman rug and doze off to sleep. The last sound heard ere reaching the
realms of unconsciousness is the steady tramp of the sentinels pacing to
and fro. Scarcel